Into the Mystic
by Haitus80
Summary: The first ten years of his life were hard, living in a perpetual state of fear, abuse and uncertainty. He was running from his despair when she found him. After just one week, she became the one safe haven in his life. Every year, those few weeks during summer, when her parents brought her to Georgia, were enough to build a bond that others couldn't even comprehend.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello. So, I'm nervous about posting this one. I almost backed out many times. I'm insanely in love with this story, more so than any other story I've posted, and sticking it out there to be scrutinized is oddly terrifying, which is weird because I'm not new to this, but I feel that way at the moment. Anyway, expect regular updates because it's almost complete. I have a chapter and a half left to write before it's finished. I really hope you all end up enjoying this as much I have enjoyed writing it.**

 **Chapter One**

 _ **Ten years old...**_

He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, ignoring the ache in his back, ignoring the sting from the cuts he received every time he got to close to the overgrown brush and sharp branches. Thorns from a bush tore into his shirt, digging into the skin of his arms and for a terrifying moment he thought it was his dad, grabbing him to haul him back home and beat him again. He made a frightened desperate sound in the back of his throat and pushed his legs harder.

He wasn't worried about getting lost again. A year ago, right after his mom had died in a house fire, he had gotten lost in these woods. He had been lost for days and his dad hadn't even noticed. Merle had been gone, pulling some time in juvie. After that, Daryl had vowed that he'd never get lost again. He'd taught himself how to track. He'd taught himself how to listen to the woods. Now it was the only place he was able to find any solace.

He wasn't sure how long he had ran but when he finally slowed, his surroundings were no longer familiar. He was much deeper in the woods than he had ever been before but he didn't care. That meant he was further away from that house. He was further away from the angry drunken words that seemed to cut into him deeper than the briars and branches had during his run.

 _Worthless. Stupid. Should have been you that died in that fire. You're no good, boy. Won't nobody ever give a fuck about you. Me, your own damn daddy sure don't._

He stopped in his tracks, closed his eyes and let the pain wash over him. He wiped his eyes on his shirt sleeve and dropped to his knees. Humiliation had him hanging his head, his slender shoulders stiff. Why did everything have to hurt so much? How come it never mattered what he did, he still wasn't ever good enough? He tried. God, he tried so hard. He thought maybe he tried harder than anybody else had ever tried before, but it did him no good. His mama stayed dead. Merle stayed gone. His dad stayed mad. No matter what he did... for some reason, everybody still hated him...

Sometimes he even hated himself because the words that his dad threw at him often, well, they had to hold _some_ truth. If they didn't then surely he wouldn't feel so empty all the time. So alone and afraid. Always afraid. He really was worthless. He was stupid and he was no good and nobody was ever going to love him because of it. The world was just dark and the world was just cold and for the likes of Daryl Dixon, there wasn't any good to be found. His dad hated him. The kids at school mocked him. Merle abandoned him. He was only ten years old but he felt so tired already. Tired and more alone than any kid ever had the right to feel.

He pushed back up off the ground, not bothering brushing the dirt and dead leaves off the knees of his jeans. He started walking now, paying more attention to the sounds around him. A few times he stopped, tilting his head to the side because he'd think he heard the voices of people far away. He didn't care anymore. He kept walking until he came to the edge of the woods, his eyes widening at what he discovered.

Right there in front of him, beyond a wide stretch of white sand, was a lake. Far off in the distance he could make out the shapes of boats on the water and off to his right were houses sitting near the beach. That must have been the source of the voices he had caught snatches of in the woods. He realized where he was now. Those houses were vacation homes and this place was no place for a Dixon, that was for sure.

Instead of backing further into the woods, he found himself stepping out onto the sand. He was far enough away from the houses that no one could say he was trespassing and it wasn't like those people owned the whole lake. He had every right to look out over the water for a while. He was tired and he was sore and he couldn't, he wouldn't, go back home.

There was a large piece of driftwood, like a long dead tree, close to the waters edge and he decided it wasn't going to hurt anything to sit for a spell. He toed off his worn boots and carried them with him. The sun was high in the sky and he shrugged off his flannel shirt and laid it out on the log before he sat down, aware of how dirty the tee shirt he was still wearing was but he wasn't here to impress anyone. He frowned when he realized that his arms were cut up much more than he thought. There were several cuts that were bleeding freely and he realized with a start that his lip was still bleeding too. Bleeding from the hit he had taken from his dad.

"Hi."

He stiffened and nearly fell off the tree when he looked up into the freckled face of a girl. He stood up quickly, grabbed his shirt and boots and was about to bolt for the safety of the trees before this stupid girl could start laughing at him.

"You don't have to leave," she said quickly, holding up her free hand to stop him.

He wasn't sure why he did it, but he hesitated. She hadn't called him any names and she hadn't commented on his torn and dirty clothes. Briefly he met her eyes and was startled to see that they were the exact same shade as the sky. He looked away, his face flaming hot.

She held up a basket and then shifted on her feet nervously. "I came out here to have lunch. I brought plenty."

He looked up again and wasn't sure what to say.

"I don't mind sharing if you don't mind the company," she hedged. "I'm Carol."

He swallowed hard but he still wasn't sure what he was suppose to say.

"Can you talk?" She asked, not sounding very mocking at all, like she genuinely thought that maybe he couldn't speak.

He nodded and then remembered his lip was bleeding and wiped the blood away. Amazingly, she didn't seem to notice.

"There's other kids that live close by but they're a bunch of jerks so I like coming out here. As long as you promise not to make fun of me like they always do or shove me into the daggone lake, I'll split it with you. There's even pie," she offered.

He frowned and shook his head. "I wouldn't do nothin' like that."

This earned him a wide grin. It had him feeling like smiling back but he didn't. He was still waiting for the punchline. She sat the basket down and shook out a quilt that she had tucked under her arm. He watched her, still waiting for something, anything, bad to happen. She sat down on her knees and looked up at him. "Well, are you gonna sit down?"

He still thought maybe it would be smarter to just go on back home but his curiosity was overriding his fear at the moment. Surely this girl wouldn't go to all this trouble just to turn around and it be a big joke. He sat down a few feet away, at the very edge of the quilt.

"Here," she said quietly, handing him a few napkins. "For your lip."

He took them, wondering why she hadn't asked him what had happened to him. He suspected that there were a few bruises to match the busted lip but he wasn't going to complain about her not showing any interest in them. He wouldn't tell her what happened no matter what so he was glad she hadn't asked.

"Do you have a name?" She asked as she unloaded the basket.

His eyebrows shot up when he saw all the food she had. A container of fried chicken, potato salad, macaroni and cheese and a huge piece of pie. "Daryl," he muttered. "That's a lot of food."

She smiled and nodded. "My dad says I should be fat cause I can eat as much as him. Our names rhyme," she said as she handed him a paper plate and a spoon. "Mine and yours I mean, not mine and my dad's. You probably already knew that's what I meant though. I', sorry, sometimes I talk a lot when I get nervous."

He hesitated a moment and then took the plate.

"You aren't like other kids around here." She said before biting off a piece of chicken. This girl must have hated the quiet because she really did talk a lot and her words proved to make him nervous, even though she'd said that she was the nervous talker. He felt a little bad for thinking that this girl was just a little weird, but he'd never say that to her. Weird or not, so far she was nice.

He glanced up then, remembering what she had said about him not being like other kids. What was that suppose to mean? He wasn't sure so he just shrugged and took a bite of his own. It was good. Probably better than anything he'd ever eaten before.

"Every year we come here and every year the same stupid families come here and I just can't stand it. This one girl, Olivia, she's eleven, she thinks she's so great and she's always making fun of me. Her brothers are twins, they're ten, same age as me, and they're always giving me a hard time too. Then there's Bradly and Clair and they're twelve. They're best friends and since they're older they always say mean crap to me. They all stink. I'm glad I found you out here. Even if you're too quiet, at least you're nice so far." She rambled on and on and he was sure no one had ever said so much to him at once in all his life.

"I'm ten too," he said quickly once she paused to catch her breath.

She smiled. "Are you a townie?"

He felt his stomach twist painfully, wondering if townie was something bad. "A what?" He asked, bracing himself for her to laugh at him.

"Do you live here all year round or are you on vacation?"

Oh. Well, that wasn't bad. "I live here. Well, not on the lake. I live on the other side of the woods."

Her face fell. "Well crap."

He wanted to ask for another piece of chicken but he was too embarrassed. To his surprise she pushed the container towards him and motioned to it absently. He grabbed the biggest piece he seen.

"I wish you lived closer."

He looked up, stunned. "Why?"

She met his eyes, pausing with her spoon in front of her face. "So I would have someone to do things with. It's lonely out here."

He wasn't sure why anyone would give her a hard time. She was nice and she was pretty. She seemed funny. "How long are you stayin'?" He asked hesitantly.

She shrugged. "Another week. We've been here a week already. Sometimes we stay for three weeks. We come every year."

"I can come back," he said, hating that he couldn't stop blushing. He could feel the heat on his face and if he didn't stop it she was going to think he was weirder than she probably already did.

"You really aren't scared walking all the way here through the woods?" She asked, her eyes wide.

He shook his head. "I like the woods."

She glanced past him towards the trees. "Seems scary to me. You're a lot more brave than I am. Maybe the bravest ten year old I've ever met."

And that was when it happened. The first time that he could remember someone ever saying something good about him. He felt a small flicker of pride that someone would think he was brave. He felt the corner of his mouth turn up and then turned his attention back to his plate.

"You should smile more often, Daryl. You're awfully cute when you do. Cute and brave and willing to be friends with the girl that the rest of them pick on. Today is definitely my lucky day."

He thought his hair was going to catch fire. He couldn't believe the words coming out of this crazy girl's mouth. He almost skittered away when suddenly she was moving so she was sitting right next to him.

"Sorry but I'm all out of plates. We'll have to share this," she said, balancing the pie on her knee that was now pressed against his own. Without missing a beat she started in on the pie, so he joined her. She didn't act like sharing a plate with him was going to give her cooties or anything and he felt himself start to relax as she started talking about everything from her favorite color to what their plans for tomorrow were going to be.

He helped her clean up, figuring she would want to go back to her house. He surprised himself when he heard himself ask her if she wanted him to show her the woods.

Her blue eyes brightened. "Are you sure? Aren't there bears and snakes in there?"

He shrugged. "Maybe, but I ain't ever seen any."

"What if we get lost?"

"We won't. I did once but I know how to not get lost anymore. If you don't want then-"

She grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the trees. He was sure that his heart was going to pound clean out of his chest. He was holding hands with a girl. A nice girl. A girl that, for whatever reasons, thought he was cute.

~H~

Six days later Daryl woke up at the crack of dawn and hurriedly showered and got dressed. This had been the best week of his life and today was the last day. He had never had so much fun. He had never felt so good before and the thought of it being over after today really hurt. Carol was always thinking of stuff to do. She brought him lunch every day. She was always complimenting him and it had him feeling so good about himself that he didn't even care when his dad would start in on him. He hadn't gotten another beating since the day he had met her, mostly because he hadn't been home.

He ran like he had ran that first day, not wanting to miss a minute of his last day. Once he finally broke through the trees he spotted her sitting on the driftwood where he had found her waiting for him every day since the day she had stumbled upon him.

When she saw him she stood up and met him half way. "I'm so glad you made it!" she said, her eyes filling with tears. "We're leaving early because of traffic."

His heart sank but he tried not to show it. "I guess this is bye then, huh?" he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking down. His chest felt strange. Like a dull hollow ache that just may stay there for the rest of his life.

Suddenly he was nearly knocked over and he flinched reflexively, but she wasn't pushing him away. She was actually hugging him. He stood there like an idiot for a second before he pulled his hands out of his pockets and hesitantly wrapped his arms around her slender frame. He heard her sniffle next to his ear and without thinking he tightened his arms around her.

He knew she was crying but he didn't know what he could say to make it any better because he kind of felt like crying himself. It didn't matter that it had only been days since they had met. She was his friend. His only friend and she _cared_ about him and had no shame in showing it. He wouldn't ever feel like this again and he knew it and it caused his chest to hurt and that lonely feeling that he had carried inside of him his whole life seemed to expand. She hugged him for a long time and he silently hoped that she wouldn't stop because it felt good. He wasn't used to feeling so needed and he wasn't used to anyone being so... good to him.

"I'm gonna miss you so much!" she said tearfully.

"Me too," he muttered, not nearly as shy as he had been that first day they had met.

"July first," she said quickly, pulling away but keeping her hands on his shoulders. He still hadn't let go of her.

"What?"

"We always come on the same day every single year. Will you be here?"

He nodded, a small spark of hope igniting in his chest, lessening that ache.

"You promise you won't forget?" Her eyes were pleading.

"I won't forget," he said firmly.

She glanced over her shoulder towards the houses in the distance and he saw the tears then, flowing freely. A lump formed in his throat but he refused to actually cry. Crying never solved anything but he'd never say that to her. The fact that she was crying because she was leaving him made him feel weird. A good weird though. When she turned back to face him she quickly hugged him one more time and then she kissed him.

Kissed him right there on the cheek and then she turned and ran off towards the houses. He watched her go, his face as red as a beet and his cheek tingling where her lips had been.

One year. All he had to do was get through one year and then he'd have his friend back. He didn't go home. He stayed there on the beach, looking out over the water and wishing he wasn't alone again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again. Many thanks for giving this story a shot! It's appreciated! Soon we'll be heading into those weird and terrible puberty years so that should be fun for you, if not Daryl.**

 **Chapter Two**

 _ **Eleven years old...**_

"None of your business, Merle!" Daryl growled right before his older brother grabbed him by the back of the shirt and hauled him back inside.

"You gotta tell me where the hell you're goin' cause I'm responsible for your squirrely little ass till that cocksucker gets outta jail," Merle grumbled, not letting go until he had Daryl turned around and now he was able to block the door.

"I'm goin' to the woods, damn it. Let me by!" He tried to push his brother out of the way but that wasn't working out very well. He was already a nervous wreck, wondering if the girl from a whole year ago would even remember him at all, let alone be waiting for him. But he'd held on to faith and the thought of seeing her again had gotten him through some terrible times over the last year.

"You gotta hot date?" Merle asked, wagging his eyebrows at him. "Is that why you had to get all cleaned up and put on your best pants?"

He felt his face flame but glared at Merle. "'Course not, now get the hell outta my way Merle or I swear I'm gonna-"

"Gonna what?" Merle asked, crossing his arms over his chest and eying him.

Daryl shook his head and turned towards the front door but Merle slipped around him and blocked his way. "Okay, fine. I'm meetin' a girl. Now would you just get the hell outta my way? Please!" Daryl was young but he'd learned a lot from his brother over the last year. Merle was seventeen and was constantly talking about girls and all sorts of other things that Daryl tried to block from his mind. Maybe if his older brother knew that there indeed _was_ a girl, he would let him leave.

Merle grinned, his blue eyes widening. "Hot damn, boy! Why didn't you just say so? By all means, get your little ass out there. No need in keepin' the girl waitin'. Is she hot?"

Daryl groaned. "Sure, Merle." God sometimes he hated his brother. Well, he hated him right now anyway. Things had been a lot better at home since Merle had came back. The beatings were few and far between because his dad knew that if he laid hands on Daryl, Merle would hurt him. "I'll be back later."

"Hell, you should bring her back here. You ain't gotta sneak around when it comes to me, baby brother." Merle slapped him on the back and then ushered him out the door. "You need a condom?"

Daryl frowned and glanced over his shoulder. "A what?" Sometimes he was sure that Merle talked right out of his ass because his mouth knew better.

Merle just chuckled and shook his head. "Never mind. I'll see ya later."

Daryl waited for Merle to shut the door and then he took off as fast as he could for the trees. He wasn't a creep or anything. He didn't think about Carol all the time. He didn't sit around and stare at the clock and count down the minutes for the moment he'd see her again. But sometimes when his dad would start in on him he would remember her face and he would remember things she had said to him. When his dad would call him a pussy he would remember when Carol told him he was brave. When someone at school would call him trash he would remember how hard she had hugged him the day she had left. When his dad told him he was stupid he would remember the grin on her face when he pointed out all the different kinds of plants they would see in the woods. Every time he was hit, he would remember the soft feel of her lips on his cheek.

She made things easier. The memory of her just made him feel good, and good wasn't something he was very used to.

He clung to those six days when he needed to. Maybe he thought about her more than she thought about him but that was okay. He would rather it be that way. He wouldn't want her to have to hold on to something like that just because her life was so bad. He was happy that she seemed to have such a good life.

And now he was going to see her again. He prayed as hard as he could that she hadn't forgotten. Surely she hadn't. She'd made him promise that he wouldn't so it wouldn't make much sense for her to forget.

As soon as he got closer to the beach he slowed down so he could catch his breath. He also reminded himself that anything could have happened over the past year and that there was a real possibility that she wasn't going to show up. Or maybe she had decided that she didn't want to be his friend. It was better to be prepared just in case. If he was dead set on her being there and then she didn't show up it would hurt. He needed to be prepared and expect the worst.

He broke through the trees, his eyes scanning the strip of sand and then settling on the driftwood they'd sat on last summer. He swallowed hard and then forced himself to walk instead of sprint, even though he really really wanted to run like the devil was chasing his ass.

She was there, her knees drawn up and her arms wrapped around her legs. She was looking out over the water but suddenly she turned her head and spotted him walking towards her. She launched herself off of her makeshift seat and the smile that lit her face was so bright that he found himself returning it easily. He hadn't known if she was going to act different. It had been a long time since they had seen each other.

He stumbled backwards when she suddenly threw herself at him. Her arms were around his neck just like they had been the day she left and he wondered briefly if she was going to kiss him again. He silently chastised himself for even thinking it.

"You look amazing!" She beamed, her eyes searching his face. "No bumps or bruises this time. I was scared that you'd be in worse shape than I found you in."

He shrugged and then he actually looked at her. For some reason he was horrified at the realization that she was taller than him. He'd grown a little bit over the last year but she had shot way up there. She didn't seem to notice though so he didn't say anything. Other than that and the fact that her hair was longer, she hadn't seemed to change at all.

"I almost didn't even get to meet you today," she went on, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the driftwood. "My parent's are out on the boat and probably won't be back all day. It took me forever to convince them that I was old enough to stay home alone. None of the other families are here yet so it's just us. Do you want to come see the house?"

He blinked, not used to her rapid fire conversation. "What if they catch me there?" He asked.

She smiled and squeezed his hand. "For one, I just told you they'll probably be gone all day and for two, so what if they do? I told them all about you."

His eyebrows shot up. "You told them about me?"

She nodded. "So, you'll come?"

He shrugged again and let her lead him along the beach.

"So," she said after a few silent moments, "how was your year?"

He was having a little trouble thinking with her hand clasped around his but he finally answered. "It was a lot better than last year."

She glanced at him and he thought that she was blushing but he couldn't think of a reason why. "I have something for you when we get to the house."

He frowned. What in the heck could she have gotten him? He hadn't gotten her a damn thing and now he was gonna feel like a total ass. The closer they got to the houses the more nervous he got and he realized that he was squeezing her hand way too hard. He loosened his grip.

"You don't want to meet my parents, do you?" She asked softly, turning onto a sidewalk that led them up to the house on the very end of the row.

"I ain't much good at meetin' people," he muttered.

"Well, I think you're great and I know that they're gonna think the same thing so there isn't anything to be nervous about."

He sighed and nodded. "If you say so." He let her pull him into the house and then she shut the door firmly behind them. He glanced around, feeling completely out of place. The house was nice. Really nice. Just like he knew it would be. He could already tell that it was bigger than his house. He wondered briefly what kind of house she actually lived in all year round.

"My room is in the back," she said, motioning for him to follow her.

He grew even more nervous at the prospect of seeing her bedroom. He'd never been in a girl's room before and he almost didn't follow her through the doorway. It must have been Merle's stupid fault. He was always talking nasty about all the stuff he did with girls. He couldn't imagine Carol acting the way Merle described so he took a deep breath and stepped inside.

The room had a lot of windows that looked right out onto the lake and he was drawn to the view. "This is pretty great," he said absently.

"Okay, if I give you something will you swear you won't laugh?" Carol asked from somewhere behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder, met her eyes and nodded. "I won't." He didn't know why she would think he would laugh at her for anything. Especially if she had something for him.

She got down on her knees and reached under the bed, pulling out a shoe box and then motioning for him to look inside. "It's probably stupid. Now that I think about it, I know it's stupid. Now I'm kind of embarrassed," she muttered, picking the box back up as soon as he reached for it.

He frowned. "It ain't stupid." It was odd seeing her so uncomfortable. Ever since the minute he met her she seemed so self assured.

"You don't even know what it is yet," she said with a smile. "I swear, Daryl Dixon, you're the nicest boy I've met in my life." She nervously scooted the box towards him.

He pulled the top off and looked inside, his brow creasing in confusion. He glanced up at her, hoping she'd explain.

She bit her lip, her wide eyes looking everywhere but at him. "They're letters. I wrote you letters once a week. It's stupid, like I said, but even though we didn't really get to spend that much time together, you're still kind of my best friend and I thought if I wrote you then it would almost be like talking to you. I saved them all. I probably should have just thrown them away. Now you're here and I can tell you everything that's in them so it isn't-"

"Carol," he said suddenly, cutting her off. She looked up at him nervously and he looked back down at all the folded letters inside. "It ain't stupid." And he meant it. He almost wished that he'd have thought to do the same thing. And here he had been worried that she'd forget about him altogether.

"You can take them but you have to promise you won't read them until I'm gone again."

He looked away, not wanting to think about what it was going to be like this time she left. "You said sometimes your folks stay here for three weeks?" He hedged.

Now she grinned. "And this is one of those years we're staying for three weeks. They were so happy when I begged them if we could. Usually I hate this place and I pitch the most awful fits because it isn't ever fun but this year I couldn't wait to come back. That's why they want to meet you."

He shook his head at that. "I'm glad you're stayin' but I still don't know if it's a good idea to-"

"Carol?" A woman's voice called from the front of the house.

Daryl felt his eyes grow wide and he glanced towards the windows, wondering how fast he could get one open and jump out.

Suddenly Carol was next to him, her hand slipping into his and smiling reassuringly. "They're gonna think you're as great as I do," she whispered.

He swallowed and let her lead him out of the room and into the kitchen. Standing at the counter, was a tall slender woman with hair the same shade as Carol's. She was wearing a pair of large sunglasses with white frames and a white bikini top and a long skirt and she was pouring a glass of tea. And Daryl was dumbstruck. Carol was pretty, sure, but this lady was... beautiful. His face flamed as the word entered his mind.

She looked up and smiled, pulling the glasses off and looking between the two of them. "You must be the famous Daryl Dixon we've been hearing about for the last year," she said, her blue eyes studying him.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep his eyes on hers and feeling his face growing hotter and hotter. Carol elbowed him lightly and he nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Her eyebrows shot up and her smile widened. "And manners to boot. I must say, it's very nice to meet you Mr. Dixon. It's a real pleasure indeed."

No grown up had ever talked to him like that before. Especially one that looked like this woman. He felt like he was in the presence of a movie star.

"Well, Mary, I'm pretty sure you've caused this poor young man to lose his voice."

Daryl looked towards the kitchen table and saw a dark haired man sitting there watching them. The man was grinning but Daryl still felt his stomach turn. His own dad was pretty bad so he didn't want to imagine what a man that wasn't his dad would do to him if he messed up. His eyes slid back to the woman and she was studying him like she had before.

"Daryl, what are your plans for the fourth of July this year?" She asked, pulling out two more glasses filling them with ice and then tea and handing him one.

He took a long drink before answering. "Nothin'. My old man's in jail and my brother, he's probably got plans with his girlfriend." Shit! He was so stupid! They weren't gonna want their daughter hanging around a boy who had a dad in jail!

"Well, we're gonna have a get together. There will be plenty of food and fireworks and we'd love it if you could come here," she said, not seeming bothered in the least that his dad was a piece of shit.

He nodded and took another drink of the tea just so he wouldn't have to say anything else.

 **~H~**

Daryl had assumed that the six days the year before had been the best days of his life. The three weeks he had spent with Carol's family this summer blew those six days clean out of the water. He was invited to their lake house every day. Him and Carol were inseparable and he was able to do a whole lot of staring at Carol's mom.

Carol caught him a few times and even though she tried to hide it, it was obvious that she was mad. After that he was more discreet about the staring. He didn't know why it would bother her so much since it wasn't like he was gonna try to steal her mom away from her dad or anything. He actually liked her dad a lot. But it didn't hurt to look.

When it was just the two of them he caught himself doing a whole lot of looking at Carol too. He realized, with a start, that she actually looked just like her mom. She was still just a skinny kid now, all knees and elbows just like him, but someday she was going to be a knock out and this made him uncomfortable. When she'd catch him staring he'd look away, face flushing. She would just grin at him which made it even worse but it wasn't like he could help himself.

The day before Carol was suppose to leave Merle informed him that he would be on his own again. Apparently there was a party that Merle couldn't miss. Daryl didn't mind. He was used to being alone. He actually enjoyed it. It was a lot better than being there with his dad.

When he met Carol at the lake that day she seemed down. She didn't smile very much and when she talked she kept her voice low.

"What's wrong?" He asked as they sat in the sand, watching the sun go down.

She shrugged. "Seems like I just got here. I'm not ready to go back yet."

He glanced at her and pulled his knees up. "Yeah, I ain't ready for you to go back yet either."

"Why do you think we became best friends in just a few days last summer?" she asked suddenly.

He shrugged. "For me I guess it's cause you were bout the first person that ever really talked to me. Friendly like, anyhow. People have plenty to say but they ain't very nice about it. What about you?"

She smiled but it was vague and she kept her blue eyes riveted on the sunset. "Because you looked lost. And you had those bruises. I thought maybe you needed a friend around here as much as I did."

He didn't comment on the bruises and she didn't say anything else about them either. "Maybe the year won't seem so long if we wrote each other. Or you could call. We got a phone."

She turned her head, her smile widening. "That's a great idea. Sure beats saving them all in a shoe box and giving them to you once a year."

"Maybe it'd make time go by faster," he said, feeling depressed that their three weeks was almost over.

"You like my parents, don't you?" She asked after a while.

He nodded. "You're lucky." She never asked him about his own. He volunteered some information but not a lot. She knew his mom was dead and his dad was locked up and that was it.

"You have a crush on my mom, don't you?" She asked, not smiling anymore.

He blushed and then scowled. "'Course not."

She nodded. "Yes you do. I can tell."

He shook his head, knowing that he would never admit it, even if Carol was his best friend and he was suppose to tell her everything.

"You think she's pretty," Carol said, eyes still on the water.

He shrugged. "Cause she is."

Now the girl was smiling and she turned her head. He thought maybe this was going to be the moment he got made fun of. "You know, it may not seem like it now but some day I'll look just like her."

He nodded. He'd already came to that realization weeks ago.

"You think when I do look just like her you'll end up having a crush on me?"

Daryl felt his eyes widen. He kept his mouth sealed.

"Because if you do think you'll eventually look at me that way, maybe-" Her voice trailed off and for the first time this summer, it was her face turning as red as his usually was.

"What?" He pressed.

She shook her head and stood up, reaching for his hand. She pulled him up from the sand. "Have you ever had a girlfriend?"

He gaped at her. Until her he hadn't ever even had a real friend before. "No!" He choked.

She kicked at the sand as they walked, not looking at him. "Have you ever wanted one?"

He swallowed, remembering all the weird stuff Merle talked about and trying to picture him and Carol doing something like that. Like kissing with tongues. He tripped over his own feet and landed gracelessly in the sand.

She laughed and then helped him back up. He brushed off the sand and finally found the courage to look at her. Her eyes were wide and she was biting her lip. Finally he shook his head. "I've never thought about it before."

"Well, I was thinking. We're only eleven right now but I know that I like you a lot. Maybe I even love you."

He almost fell again but managed to stay upright. He blinked and then looked at his bare feet. When was the last time anyone had said that to him? He couldn't remember.

"Actually, if I have to be honest, and I have to because you're my best friend, it's kind of more than maybe. I know that I love you. And I thought if you felt the same way, or even just like me a lot more than anyone else, that it would be smart to just go ahead and I can be your girlfriend. If you want I mean. You don't have to. It won't mean I won't love you anymore but we can just wait until I look more like my mom if you want."

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and chewed his own lip for a while. He took a deep breath and then, in a great show of bravery, he nodded. "Okay. But I'm not sticking my tongue in your mouth."

She wrinkled her nose. "Who does that?"

Daryl shrugged. "Merle does."

She shook her head. "I don't think that's how you're suppose to do it."

He nodded. "I didn't think so either."

They continued on towards her house and just like that, not only did he have a best friend but Daryl Dixon, at the ripe old age of eleven, was officially off the market.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello! I wanted to get this one out because we're getting some pretty bad storms and my internet connection is a joke even on the sunniest of days! Hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks a millions times over for reading!**

 **Chapter Three**

 _ **Twelve years old...**_

On July 1st Daryl didn't get to meet Carol at the lake like he had the past two years in a row now. He received a letter from her two weeks previously, explaining to him that her grandmother was sick and the family wasn't going to the lake house this year. They were going to New Orleans and spending time with family instead.

Daryl had felt like he'd taken a blow to the stomach when he had read the letter. Merle was gone again. He had joined the military as soon as he had turned eighteen and their dad was a free man now. The only thing that had been keeping Daryl from losing his mind had been the promise of seeing Carol. When he had read the letter it had put him in a dark mood, which he found himself prone to over the last few months.

He was tired of everything. School had been horrible this year. He'd gotten in three fights. He'd nearly gotten held back for missing so much school and falling so far behind. It just wasn't easy to get up and go when he had to spend all night nursing his wounds that his dad had given him for not being able to get food on the table fast enough.

The one thing he had been looking forward too. The only thing he ever looked forward to, wasn't happening. Everything had been going so wrong that two nights ago, when his dad had come home in a bad mood from the bar, he'd found himself fighting back when the man had grabbed him. That had proved to be a mistake and now he was in bed, fresh out of the hospital, with a broken arm and a broken collar bone. But at least he was alone.

He could have gotten out of here. While he was in the hospital a social worker had been called in and the woman had spent a lot of time in his room, asking him a million questions. He lied, of course. Despite the fact that the story he had told them about how he had sustained the broken bones didn't really match the injuries, there wasn't anything they could do unless he told them that he was being abused. And he would never tell them that.

Besides, this time it hadn't really been abuse. It had been a fight. Sure, he had lost but he'd gotten in a few good licks. Maybe the man would think again before he put his hands on him. He doubted it though. He was still pretty sure that his dad would leave him be for a while, anyway. The fact that those social workers had talked to him at all had made his dad pretty nervous.

The sound of the phone ringing had him scowling. He didn't feel like doing anything that didn't involve lying in bed and reading over some of those old letters. She wrote him once a week and he kept them in the shoe box with the others. The box was hidden at the bottom of his closet under some old clothes. The last thing he wanted was for Merle or his old man to get a hold of them. Especially since all of them were signed, Love, Carol. Merle would give him so much shit for that.

He padded barefoot out into the living room, grumbling about how itchy his arm was in the stupid cast, and answered the phone gruffly. "Hello?"

"Is... Daryl there?"

His heart slammed into his ribs and he sat down heavily in the chair next to he phone. He'd know that voice anywhere and the sound of it had his stomach doing strange little flips. "Carol?"

"Hi! I didn't recognize your voice at first! You sound different. How are you?"

He groaned, even though he was actually talking to her and he was excited about talking to her he had noticed months ago that his voice was getting all weird and he knew that's what she was talking about. "I'm good, I guess. I got your letter."

"Which letter?" She asked, and he frowned because he could swear he could hear the smile in her voice and wondered what there was to smile about.

"The one tellin' me about your grandma," he said. "Sorry she's sick."

"Daryl, can I call you back in five minutes?" She asked quickly.

He frowned. "I guess so." He really didn't want to get off the phone with her.

"And can you do me a favor?"

"Yeah," he said without hesitation. He'd damn near do anything she asked him to do.

"Can you check your mail real quick?"

He frowned. He wasn't due to get another letter from her for a few days. "I 'spose I can do that."

"Okay. Is your dad home?"

He glanced at the clock. It was nearly nine at night and if his dad wasn't home now he doubted he would be for a while. "Nah. It's just me tonight."

"Right. I'll call you back, okay?"

Before he could say anything at all she had hung up. He scowled. Why the hell would she call him if she was just going to get off the phone? He wanted to talk to her. Hearing her voice at least made him feel like she wasn't hundreds of miles away.

He grumbled to himself as he walked down the lane to the mailbox. The damn porch light was blown so it was black as pitch out there but he felt around in the box and felt a couple of envelopes. He was excited by the prospect of another letter from her so he quickened his steps. The letters always made him feel better. When it felt like his world was coming apart at the seams, he'd get another one and it would get him through the bad times he knew would come.

Once he was inside he sat back down in the chair. He tossed the bills and junk mail onto the table and held up the letter from her, staring at the neat handwriting on the front of the envelope before he tore it open. When he wrote her back he always wondered if she was going to be able to decipher his chicken scratch but she'd never complained.

 _Dear Daryl,_

 _I'm so excited I can't stand it. My aunt just called and my grandma is doing fine. It was just a virus that caused her to get dehydrated. She's home now. All of that is great news, sure, but guess what that means?_

 _I'll be waiting by the lake! I can't wait to see you. I've been-_

Daryl didn't even bother reading anymore. He shoved the letter into the envelope and then shoved that into his back pocket as he stood up. It was dark and it was going to be rough but he wasn't sitting here knowing that she was so close. He worked his feet into his boots and then cursed out loud as he tried tying them with one hand. A broken arm really sucked when you were in a hurry. He was probably going to end up breaking his other arm, or his neck, when he tried to make it all the way to the lake in the dark but he'd worry about that when the time came.

By the time he had his boots tied and he was about to head out the back he heard a tentative knock on the front door. He cursed and hurried back through the house, throwing the door open. He winced when someone just about mowed him over and he barely got a glimpse of her before her face was buried in the crook of his neck.

He used his good arm to hug her back, letting go of a heavy breath and what felt like a whole years worth of burdens with it. They stayed like that for a long time. It seemed like the only touch he'd ever known that didn't bring pain with it was hers and he had missed it more than words could even explain.

She pulled back and then gasped when she realized he had his arm in a sling. He was surprised to see that he was now a half a head taller than her. "I was so worried when you weren't there today! What happened to your arm?"

He took in her face, noticing the subtle changes because to him, they weren't very subtle at all. Someone that spent every day with her probably wouldn't notice but he did. He glanced down at his arm and shrugged. "Broke it. It ain't nothin', though. I was just about to walk to your house."

Her eyes widened. "It's dark!"

"So? Ain't nothin' in the dark that ain't there during the day."

She studied his face for a few moments before she brought her hand up, the tip of her finger tracing the outline of a fading bruise on his cheek bone. Surprisingly, her eyes suddenly filled with tears that she didn't even try to blink back. "I hate him," she said, the ice in her voice chilling the room.

He knew that she was talking about his dad. He knew that she knew about all of it but she had never mentioned it. Had never made a big deal about it. "It ain't that bad," he said, his voice so low he wasn't sure she heard him at all.

Her eyes slid from the bruise back to his and then she nodded. "My parents are outside waiting. Can you come with me?" She asked, blinking more tears away and taking a deep breath.

He glanced past her, just now realizing there was a car in the drive. "You don't think they'd mind? It's late."

She shook her head. "You can spend the night. They know you spend a lot of time out here alone and they said it was okay. You have to sleep on the couch, though."

He nodded and followed her to the door. She slipped her hand into his once they were in the car, squeezing gently. He glanced over at her and saw her looking at him nervously. He followed her gaze when she looked down at their hands. Even in the dim cab he could see that his hands seemed... too rough. Scarred and weather worn next to her pale flawless skin.

"Daryl, we were gonna stop and grab a few pizzas. Is there anything specific you want on yours?" Carol's mom asked suddenly, breaking him from his thoughts.

"Anything's good," he said quietly.

When they stopped at the pizza place her dad turned in his seat. "We didn't call in ahead of time so it might take a little bit. You two want to come in and wait or sit out here and catch up?"

"Stay here," Carol said quickly.

Her dad smiled. "No making out," he said, forcing his voice to sound severe. Daryl felt his face flame and then they were out of the car, walking towards the doors.

Carol turned in her seat and smiled. The troubled look in her eyes was still there but she was trying hard to hide it. "You look great."

He snorted, knowing she was lying but appreciating her trying to make him feel better. "I look like shit, Carol. I know that."

Her smile fell and she glanced towards the building quickly before meeting his eyes again. "Isn't there something we can do? A way to get you away from-"

"No," he snapped, shaking his head. She didn't understand. Nobody would understand.

She lowered her eyes. "The last letter you sent me..." Her voice trailed off and she shook her head angrily.

He tensed. The last letter he sent her was the one he had shoved in the mailbox right after his dad had left him in a bloody heap on the floor. He had been half out of his mind with pain from his arm and filled with a seething hatred that he wasn't even sure exactly what he had written to her. He'd jotted down the note, not even intending to send it but in his delirium he had said screw it and mailed it as soon as he was done writing it. "I wish I hadn't sent it," he said, almost wanting to flee from the car and go back home. He hated that she knew so much now. Hated himself because now that she actually knew, she would worry and he didn't want her to do that. He was okay. He was always okay. At least he had her.

She must have sensed his distress because suddenly her hand was on his face, turning it gently so he had no choice but to look at her. "You're twelve years old. You shouldn't have to live like this. You shouldn't have to... hurt all the time. You shouldn't have to be alone."

"I'm alright," he said quickly, knowing she was going to cry again and wishing he knew what to do about it. "I'm used to it, okay? Sometimes it gets hard but I can handle it. Least now I have you. It might be the only thing I got right now but it's enough." His face flamed as the words left his mouth but he needed her to understand that he really was okay. And he was okay because she really was the one bright spot in his life and she had the right to know it, even if it was hard and embarrassing to admit to her out loud.

Her wide eyes shimmered in the dim light but she blinked the tears away away and smiled slightly. "I wish we were older. If we were older you could just leave with us and you wouldn't ever have to worry about anything again."

He looked away, leaning the back of his head against the seat. "You and me both," he mumbled.

~H~

That night he couldn't sleep. The couch that Mary had fixed up for him was comfortable enough but with his arm in a cast and the fact that he was in a strange house kept sleep at bay. Also, he was worried. Carol seemed different this time. It wasn't really something that he could put his finger on. It was more a feeling than anything else.

He shifted on the couch but no matter what he did his arm throbbed and his mind refused to turn off the worry so he could get a little sleep. There were also some pretty severe bruises on his back that were bothering him but he had no choice but to lay on his back because of the damn arm. He blew out a heavy breath.

"Can't sleep?"

He raised his head, surprised that anyone would be up this late. Carol sat down on the middle cushion of the couch. "What are you doin' up?" He whispered, remembering her dad's warning about the two of them making out. If the man got up and caught them in here together surely that was exactly what he would think they were doing.

She shrugged. "I was worried about you."

"I'm fine. You should go back to bed. If your dad catches you-"

"My parents know we're too young to be in here messing around, Daryl," she said with a roll of her eyes. "He was just trying to get a rise out of me in the car. They know me better than that."

He laid his head back on the pillow and sighed. He had to admit that the closer she was, the better he felt. It seemed like his mind never wanted to shut off. It seemed like there was a cold storm inside him that raged and raged until he was around her again. When he was around her everything seemed to grow still. That storm inside him abated and he could feel warm again. He didn't understand it. He doubted he'd ever understand it, but it was just the way it was.

All his life, from his earliest memories, he couldn't recall peace. He couldn't recall feeling important or wanted. He couldn't remember ever feeling like he was good enough, or good at all, really. Not until the day he found that beach. The day he had found her. So he wouldn't try to talk her into going back to her room because he needed her here. He desperately needed the stillness that only she could fill him with.

It had been a very rough year. A very chaotic year filled with noise. Noise and pain and a deep desperation for it all to just end. And then, when it seemed like there was no hope. Like he was destined to suffer all that noise and pain, and suffer through it alone, he would get another letter. A letter that was always signed, Love Carol, and usually had a smiley face next to the name and then he'd remember that one place where things didn't hurt. He'd remember that, to the people that were suppose to love him he was nothing, but to one girl, he felt like he was the world. And that made it easier to face another day. For a while that noise would quiet and he would feel an exhilarating rush of self worth.

He wasn't surprised when she stretched out next to him, turning so she was facing him. He turned his head, watching her closely as she pulled the blanket so it was over both of them. He swallowed around a lump in his throat. He couldn't help but already feel grief over her leaving again, even though she had just got here.

"It isn't gonna be like this forever," she whispered, her thin arm banding around his middle.

The lump grew bigger and he felt tears sting his eyes at her gentle touch and the emotion in her voice. He hadn't cried when his dad had beaten him again. He hadn't cried through all the screaming tirades. He hadn't given the man the benefit of one tear, no matter how much the blows hurt. No matter how much the words crushed him. But when he met her eyes and saw the worry there, knowing how desperately she cared about him, and knowing that this was just a brief reprieve and she'd be gone again in the blink of an eye, he couldn't hold in that pain anymore. There wasn't enough room inside to contain it.

Her hand went to the back of his head and he rolled, keeping his broken arm tucked securely between them. He buried his face into her chest, tears scalding. He hated them. He felt her lips press against the top of his head, heard her sniffle delicately. Silent sobs rocked his frame and she wordlessly held on to him, showing him that for now, she would be strong enough for both of them.

After that night, things were never the same between them. Through his grief and her unending compassion, although neither one of them were old enough to understand what it was, somehow the two of them found the kind of love that most people couldn't dare even comprehend. They didn't realize what it was at the time, but it was bigger than the both of them and it would only continue to grow as time passed them by.

And this new thing. This huge and unknown wonder would fill him with a new kind of strength that would make the next year, one that he could forge through more easily than the others.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello! I'm warning you now that the chapters get a little bit longer. Hope that's okay. A few of you asked why Carol's parents haven't tried to help him. For starters, good eye! But I promise I didn't leave that part in the air. When he was beat up the first time they met, he didn't see her parents. The second year, he wasn't banged up. The year after that was the first year they seen him hurt. Really, it isn't that they don't care. They know he has it rough but they don't have a clue how bad it is and it explains that a little in this chapter. But thank you for bringing that up because it's something I definitely would not want to overlook and when you're writing, things like that can sometimes slip through the cracks!**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading and I'm so glad you all are enjoying this so far! =)**

 **Chapter Four**

 _ **Thirteen years old...**_

Carol's last letter, though filled with the good news that this was going to be one of the years they stayed three weeks instead of two, had him more nervous than he had ever been in his life. And that was saying something because it wasn't a secret that he was one nervous ass kid.

This letter had contained more than just Carol's happy ramblings about everyday life and the countless mentions of how much she missed him and couldn't wait to see him again. In the last letter she had sent, she had added a picture. Last year when he had seen her she had changed a little bit but this year, if the picture wasn't lying, she had changed a lot more.

Or maybe his perception of her had changed. He remembered how enamored with her mom he had been when he had met her when he had been eleven. That same year that Carol suggested that, since they liked each other so much and all that, she may as well just become his girlfriend. But after looking at that picture of her, he could barely remember what he could have seen in her mom at all. He was pretty sure that Carol was the most beautiful person on earth.

His face got hot all the way to the tips of his ears at even thinking such sentimental shit. Merle would kick him right in the balls if he ever heard Daryl say something like that out loud, but it was the damn truth. Her face, though the same face he'd looked at every year, had changed. Matured. And just his luck, so had her body.

He flushed again and shook his head as he stomped through the woods towards the beach, his fingers itching to take the picture out of his pocket and stare at it some more. But he refrained. He was about to get to see her and he wasn't going to waste any time looking at the photo when he was this close to being able to look at her in person. Even though the thought had his palms sweating and his heart racing.

"It's just Carol," he muttered to himself. "She's still Carol even if..." he shut his mouth, his lips thinning out in a grim line. He wasn't going to finish the sentence.

It wasn't like he hadn't changed a lot himself because he had. But there was no way he was as different as she was. He was basically the same. Maybe a little bigger, but still very much the same kid from last year. She was walking around looking like a damn teenager. And not a new one either. An _old_ one. If he didn't know her and had just looked at that picture he'd swear she was fifteen! Talk about a growth spurt.

He'd noticed it this year in school. He didn't stare at the girls because he wasn't the least bit interested in them. He wasn't a cheater. He had a girlfriend already and even staring at another girl was wrong, no matter what Merle said. Merle had a string of girlfriends that didn't have a clue about each other but Daryl couldn't ever do that. But he couldn't help it if he happened to look up and notice that a particular girl had mysteriously grown an obvious set of boobs.

He shook his head and felt a twinge of guilt. Guilt because he'd noticed in the first place and guilt because when he'd looked at that damn picture of Carol, that happened to be the first place his damn eyes had traveled. He didn't want to be like Merle but he couldn't deny that he'd been impressed with her body. Before now he'd never paid any attention to her body at all.

He was early so he didn't panic when he broke through the trees and he didn't see her there. He scanned the beach, scowling because some woman was walking towards their spot. Well, whoever the chick was she was shit out of luck. He stalked off towards the turned over tree and sat down. She'd just have to find a different spot because he wasn't giving his up. Not until after Carol got there.

He toed the sand for a few seconds and then just about pissed his pants when someone poked him between the shoulder blades. He stood up, spinning around, ready to give whoever it was an ear full but his voice stuck in his throat. He'd thought it was some woman walking towards him but it hadn't been. Jesus Christ, she had changed! How the hell could the skinny little thing from just last summer become this?

Carol's smile froze in place as soon as their eyes met and then she looked him over. Neither one of them said a word. He knew that his eyes were bugging out of his head but he couldn't do anything about it. Before, he had never paid attention to her clothes. He didn't give a damn about things like that, but today all she was wearing was a bikini top and a pair of shorts, which he hadn't seen her wear before, and it shouldn't matter either damn way but Jesus, it did! Because she was actually filling out the damn top and he didn't want to stare at them like a freak! So his gaze swept down and he swallowed hard, his tongue suddenly stuck to the roof of his mouth.

"Hi," she finally said, her wide eyes meeting his once he finally pulled them away from her hips. Had she always had those or were they something new too? Jesus, this was so stupid! He had never felt like this with her.

"Hey," he said, noticing her eyes widen even more at the sound of his voice. He winced, knowing that he sounded a lot different than last year.

"You look so different," she said, that familiar smile lighting up her eyes. "You're like..." She bit her lip and then shook her head.

Fuck. Did he turn into a dog over the last year? Was she grossed out by him now that he kind of looked a little different?

"You look amazing," she grinned and then stepped up onto the fallen tree that separated them, reaching for his hand that he offered quickly, and then her arms were around his neck before her feet were even on the ground on his side of the tree.

He hugged her fiercely, flushing at her words even though she said them every time she saw him. "So do you," he muttered into her hair. This was new. He usually didn't say anything back, simply taking her compliment and filing it away.

She finally pulled away but his hands lingered at her waist as hers went to his shoulders. She was taller but not as tall as him. If he hadn't have hit that growth spurt over the winter he would have probably had to look up to meet her eyes now. She grinned. "Have you been working out, Daryl Dixon? I don't remember all of this last year," she raised a brow and her fingers flexed into the muscles of his shoulders.

He groaned, fighting a blush, reminding himself that this was just Carol. She was always trying to say things to lighten the mood. She was always ribbing him to get him to either blush or smile. It was her thing. He could have given her the same crap this time though because she had changed a whole hell of a lot more than he had.

Her face grew serious as she searched his eyes. "How are things at home?" She asked, probably forgetting that by now they had usually stepped away from one another. She stayed right where she was.

He nodded, "Better than last year."

She let out a breath and surprised him when instead of pulling away she hugged him again. He didn't mind, though. Not at all. "I missed you," she whispered, the words sending a jolt up his spine. Well, not the words exactly but the intensity with which she delivered them. There was something very loud in that quiet delivery.

Yeah, this encounter seemed way different. He dropped his head to her shoulder and nodded vaguely.

"School still bad?" She asked.

"Yep," he muttered, realizing that his hands were on the bare skin of her back and swallowing hard.

"Are girls throwing themselves at you yet?" she grumbled.

His brows went up and he raised his head at the tone. He'd never heard it before and it was kind of surprising. "What? 'Course not."

She bit her lip and shrugged her shoulders. "I've seen some of the girls at my school doing it, trowing themselves at the boys. It's weird. People I've gone to school with my whole life just making out right there in the halls." She made a face.

"Well I ain't makin' out with anybody in the halls. I barely talk to anybody."

She grinned. "Me neither. I mean the making out part. I kind of talk a lot but that's just me."

Now he was grinning right back. "Yeah, it is."

~H~

A week into her visit she decided that she wanted to explore the town. He had no idea why she would want to because the place was just a little hole in the wall, but she'd begged him to go with her so he finally agreed. His dad wasn't around much lately and Merle didn't give a damn what he did so it wasn't like he had much of an excuse not to go.

Her parents were fine with it too, which had been his only hope of getting out of going. He guessed it wouldn't be too horrible because at least he'd get to spend time with her. She could make anything fun. He was about to follow Carol and her mom out to the car when suddenly her dad called his name.

Daryl turned and saw the man standing in the entryway to the kitchen. "Yeah?" he asked nervously. Even though he liked her dad a lot, the man still made him nervous. Most adults did actually. He didn't like the way they all seemed to look down at him. Not that Carol's dad had ever done that, but still.

"I want to ask you something real quick before you go," he said, motioning for Daryl to follow him to the kitchen.

Daryl glanced back at Carol's mom but she just smiled and walked out the door, leaving him on his own. Carol was already waiting by the car. She wasn't the most patient girl in the world. So he took a deep breath and went to he kitchen where her dad was sitting at the table. He motioned for Daryl to take a seat across from him. Daryl did, his eyes shifting from the man to the door a few feet away.

"Carol's taken up so much of your time that we have barely had a chance to say hello to each other," Dean said with a smile. "How have you been?"

Daryl shrugged. "Good," he said quickly, wanting to get the hell out of here.

Dean nodded. "Glad to hear it. I was wanting to ask you for a favor."

Daryl tensed. Was this the part where her dad was going to ask him to stay away from his daughter? He'd seen shit like that happen on TV and if the man asked him to do that he'd tell him to go straight to hell, no matter how much he liked him.

Dean grinned. "I noticed that damn boat of mine is in serious need of a paint job. You any good at painting?"

Daryl nodded quickly at the unexpected question. This wasn't so bad at all. "I'm pretty good. My old man's had me do a lot of painting at our house."

Dean nodded. "I thought you'd be the man for the job." He slapped something on the table and then slid it over. "And it's a big job too. It'll take you most of the day.

Daryl stared at the money and then shook his head, his eyes coming up to meet Dean's. "I can't take that. I don't mind paintin' the boat for nothin'. I'd be here anyway so I might as well make myself useful."

Dean shook his head and sighed. "Daryl, you're a good kid. A damn good kid. You got dealt one shitty hand and still, you don't let that turn you into something bad. Carol told us about your mom passing and your dad isn't around a lot."

Daryl looked away. Carol's parents didn't know the extent of the shitty hand he'd been dealt. He had been banged up pretty good when he'd first met her but by the time he had met her parents a year later, he hadn't been bruised or beaten. Last year he had but they had believed the lie about him falling down a ravine.

"Someday, you're gonna be a father and maybe then you'll understand. Maybe you'll have a little girl of your own and when she finds something that makes her happy, I mean, so damn happy that it changes her inside, you'll know why I appreciate you being exactly who you are. You make my little girl a better person, a happier person. Not just during vacation either. She's been a new girl at home since she met you. Now, I'll be damned if I let you work and not pay you a decent wage." He slid the money closer and then moved his hand.

Daryl didn't tell him that he had it wrong. He'd never bring a kid into a world like this. It didn't matter that he was only thirteen. He already knew that as fact. His dad was an evil bastard. Even Merle was bad, even though at least his brother tried when it came to him, but he knew that it was something inside of him, something that he wouldn't be able to shake once he got older and he wouldn't ever have a kid because if he did he knew he'd somehow destroy it. Just like his own dad had destroyed him. But he stood up and folded the money, slipping it into his pocket with the picture of Carol, not saying any of this to the man. "Thanks, Dean," he said, unable to put much volume into his voice.

Dean nodded, squeezed his shoulder gently and then motioned towards the front of the house. "We better hurry up."

Daryl bolted then, a one hundred dollar bill feeling like a one hundred pound weight in his pocket. He slid into the backseat, glancing at Carol who was looking at him questioningly. He offered her a smile but didn't say anything. Not until after her parents dropped them off in the middle of town.

"What did my dad want to talk to you about?" She asked suspiciously.

He just shrugged. "He asked if I'd paint the boat tomorrow. He paid me already so at least now we can do more stuff. My treat."

She smiled and grabbed his hand, linking her fingers through his easily. He glanced around, his face flushing. It was one thing to hold her hand when it was just them but they were out in the middle of town in the middle of the day and there were a lot of people out and about. "Are you ashamed of me?" She asked, raising one eyebrow.

He scowled down at her. "No!"

"Then why do you look like you wish I'd let go of your hand?" She asked, trying hard to fight a grin.

"I don't," he grumbled, tightening his grip on her hand and pulling her towards a place he knew that served some of the best burgers he'd ever eaten.

The waitress was all smiles and he wanted to die when he realized that he knew her. This was one of Merle's ex girlfriends. She'd always been at least kind of nice to him though and he'd actually told Merle that he was an idiot for trading in a nice girl for the other girl, who wasn't only a moron but was also kind of a bitch. Merle had just laughed it off and said that the good girls took too much work, whatever the hell that meant.

"You just missed your brother, Daryl," the girl, Kelly, said as she sat their drinks down. "It's good to see you out and about."

He nodded, feeling a sense of dread, knowing his brother was in town somewhere. He should have known he would be though. Ever since he came back from basic he was wild as ever. All Daryl could do was hope that they didn't run into him.

"Maybe I'll get to meet your brother," Carol said as she handed the menu back to Kelly.

He shook his head. "He's probably gone back home by now." He hoped.

The day hadn't been as bad as he feared. They even caught a movie, which he'd never bothered doing before. He didn't admit it to her though. It had been a horror movie that he thought was kind of far fetched but it had scared the hell out of Carol and she didn't just hold his hand when they came out, she actually walked tucked into his side, both her hands gripping his. It was almost dark when they walked out of the theater.

"We should have seen the other movie," she muttered, wide eyes glancing around at the people on the streets. "Anyone could be some ax wielding psychopath."

He chuckled as they started for the drug store that had a phone booth outside. "I swear, if somebody starts comin' at us with an ax, I'll probably be able to spot him in time so we can get a head start."

She glanced up, almost looking embarrassed. "It's stupid to be scared of things like that, isn't it? You aren't afraid of anything."

He snorted and shook his head but he didn't argue with her. If she wanted to believe that he was some fearless guy then he'd let her. The truth was, he was afraid of a lot of things.

"It's been a really great day," she said as they crossed the street.

He nodded, wishing for the ten millionth time that their time together didn't consist of a handful of weeks every year.

"There were some kids back there at the theater that were staring at us. Did you know them?" She asked.

He nodded. "I know of'em I guess." He felt a smug satisfaction at the shocked looks on their faces. As far as everyone was concerned, the only people Daryl associated with was his own brother. He didn't make it a point to make friends. Mostly because when he'd been younger all they did was torment him. Up until he got a little older and a little bit meaner and started fighting back. Now they mostly left him alone. He had no doubts about whether or not they still talked shit about him, but now, they made sure to wait until he was out of ear shot.

She stopped suddenly when they reached the side of the brick building, a few feet away from the phone. He glanced down questioningly. She met his eyes and then surprisingly looked down at her shoes. The day was fading fast but he could have sworn her face was turning red.

"What?" He asked when it didn't seem as though she planned on saying anything.

She finally took a deep breath and looked up, meeting his eyes again. "We're only thirteen," she stated lamely.

His brows shot up. "Seriously? And here I thought this whole time that we were twenty seven."

She scowled and then slid her hand out of his, only to throw her arms over his shoulders. "I wasn't finished."

He didn't know what to do with his hands. He couldn't just stand there but there were still people out on the streets. He finally decided to hell with it and wrapped his arms around her. He wished like hell they were back on the beach or in the woods so no one would see but having her close just felt good so there wasn't any harm in it. He frowned because she looked uncertain and he wasn't used to her looking like that. "What?" He urged.

Her face flushed deeper and she sighed. "We're thirteen and we've known each other since the summer we were ten. You've been my boyfriend since we were eleven. All week you've been looking at me different and I'm wondering if you're starting to think that maybe this is stupid. We only see each other once a year. We write letters and every once in a while talk on the phone when you can. I don't want you to think that you have to-"

"I don't think anything like that," he said quickly, knowing where this was going, fear causing his hold on her to tighten. Sure, it was kind of stupid. They could always just be friends. And she _was_ his friend. His best friend. His only friend. But he kind of liked the idea of having a girlfriend. Not just that, but he'd manage to keep the same one way longer than his brother ever had. He was kind of proud of it. And he loved her. He was young, sure, but he knew that they had something different. He thought about her all the time and she made him feel... well, all kinds of different things really. But if she didn't want-

"Why haven't you tried to kiss me?" She asked suddenly, causing him to forget whatever it was he'd been thinking.

"What?" He asked, his eyes widening.

She shrugged. "You haven't tried to kiss me. I get that we didn't have any business kissing last year. That was last year, but now we're teenagers and we're... different."

Oh God. This was fucking awful. He didn't know how to go about kissing a girl! Even this girl! "Is that what you want me to do?" He asked, his voice strained as panic sent his heart racing.

She shook her head. "I want you to want to do it. I don't want you to do it just because I want you to do it."

His eyes slid down to her mouth. Was he suppose to lick his lips first? Then he'd end up getting spit on her. He didn't want to slobber all over her face. But now that he thought about it, his lips were kind of chapped because of the sun and he didn't want her to not like it and he didn't see how she could like it if his lips were all dry. Oh God, why did she have to want to do this here anyway?

He didn't have to think about it for long because they were suddenly interrupted by the blow of a car horn. He dropped his hands and stepped away from her when he saw her parents car pull up to the curb. He had really dodged a bullet there. And she did _not_ look happy about it.

~H~

Her last day there that summer was especially difficult. It seemed like every time he got to see her, it ended up being harder than the year before to let her go. The months following her departure seemed to drag by and he knew that this year, their fourth summer spent together, was going to leave a hell of a mark.

Just like the years before she walked him to the woods, not far from what had become their spot on the beach. The spot by the fallen tree. She tried to put on a brave face this time. Every single year she cried when she left, but this year she at least put in a little effort to hold it back. She hugged him for a long time, but that was normal too. She hadn't tried to pressure him into kissing her anymore but now he felt like if he didn't he would spend the next year regretting the hell out of it. And she would think that he flat out didn't want to. That was the furthest thing from the truth. He'd been so desperate that he'd almost asked Merle for advice but he'd backed out. That was just too damn much.

She finally pulled away, her hands going to his and gripping them hard. "I'm gonna miss you," she said, her voice cracking and tears finally spilling over. God, he hated this. He pulled his hands out of hers and cupped her face, his thumbs wiping the tears away because he fucking _hated_ them. Her eyes came up, meeting his. Her hands were on his sides and he felt her grip his shirt in her fists.

He didn't let himself think about what he was about to do before he did it. He stepped into her and then dipped his head, pressing his lips to hers awkwardly. Well, it was awkward at first anyway because she froze up and he thought that he had done something wrong so he tried to pull away but she followed him, refusing to break the kiss.

He tried to relax when her lips softened against his but his heart was about to explode out of his chest and their was a weird ringing in his ears. When she finally pulled away her eyes were as large as saucers and she blinked a few times before looking down at where his shirt was still fisted in her hands.

"I have to go," she said, her voice barely sounding like her own.

He nodded because he wasn't sure he could even form words.

She backed away but before she turned to head back to the house she grinned. "I love you, Daryl Dixon."

Before he could say anything at all she turned around and bolted. He watched her and then he shook his head slowly. She had said it before, back when they were eleven, but now it was different. And he hadn't had a chance to say it back. He hadn't told her he loved her way back then when they were just kids because he didn't know anything about the word. He'd just known that he liked hearing it. But now he was older and he was a lot more mature than the dumb eleven year old he'd been, and he was pretty sure he knew a thing or two about love.

Turning back towards the woods to head home he was surprised when he didn't feel that crushing weight settling over him now that she was leaving. He was sure it would come later but right now his heart was still pounding and his lips were tingling and her words kept repeating in his head.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey! I have a lot of stuff to do this weekend so I'll probably wait until Monday to update again. Hope you enjoy this one. Thanks for reading!**

 **Chapter Five**

 _ **Fourteen years old...**_

Daryl had tried to fight back before with little success. This time was different. This time his rage came from somewhere inside of him that he wasn't even sure existed until now. Some dark place that would have terrified him if he was in the mindset to think about it very hard. But he wasn't. Not right now.

His fist shot out, connecting with the man's jaw again and he heard the satisfying sound of something crack. His dad's head flew to the side and he spit, blood and what looked like a couple of molars, onto the floor. Daryl backed away from him, thinking that maybe it was going to be over. He was wrong. The man charged him like a bull. He braced himself, the heavy weight of his father hitting him like a ton of bricks and he landed on his back. He hissed in pain as shards of broken glass tore into the gashes that he'd received just a few minutes ago.

He threw an elbow, catching the man in the chin and then he was able to shove his knee up, hitting the mark. His dad groaned and then rolled, grabbing at his injured groin. Daryl could have ran then. He could have left the house and it all could have been over. But not this time. This time the man was getting what he deserved because Daryl was pretty sure that if he didn't end this tonight, then his dad was going to kill him. He was pretty sure that he had tried to do just that just a little while ago.

The man wasn't just mean. He was goddamn insane.

Daryl pulled himself up of the floor, brought his foot back and kicked his dad in the stomach as hard as he could. When the man was doubled over Daryl dropped to his knees, grabbed his face and growled like a fucking animal. "Not again," he sneered right before he punched the man in the face again.

That was when it happened. He lost complete control. Over and over the blows reigned down on the man and he wasn't finished. His feverish gaze swept over the shards of glass on the floor, looking for one that was big enough for him to slit the bastards throat with. He wouldn't go through this again. He couldn't. It was him or his dad and he had too much to live for to let the bastard win.

He reached for a jagged shard, knew it was cutting into his palm and not caring. He gripped it with both hands and held it high above his head, ready to plunge it into the monster when suddenly he was being yanked up off the floor.

He tried to fight the grip but he couldn't. Whoever had him was too strong.

"Stop!" Merle's voice was loud in his ear as he pulled him back.

Daryl tried again to break free but Merle only tightened his grip, sweeping his feet out from under him so his knees crashed into the floor again. Daryl was pretty tough but Merle was bigger than him, stronger than him and Merle hadn't spent the last fifteen minutes fighting their father.

"Let go!" Daryl snarled, trying to fight away from Merle's two armed grip.

Merle stood up then, lifting Daryl's lighter frame right off the floor and hauled him out the front door. He let him go but only long enough to shove him against the rough shingle siding and then held him there with a forearm to the throat. He winced when the gashes in his back rubbed roughly against it. "Calm the fuck down!" Merle growled.

Daryl let the back of his head hit the wall, gasping for breath. He was tall enough so he didn't have to look up too much to meet Merle's eyes. Once Merle felt confident enough that Daryl wouldn't try to fight him to get back into the house he eased his arm away but stayed close. Daryl looked down at the front of Merle's white shirt. It was covered in blood and Daryl knew it belonged to him.

Merle looked down, his jaw clenching and then he shook his head. "What happened?"

Daryl looked away. "I ain't doin' this no more. First chance I get, I'm killin' him."

Merle looked him over and was silent for a few long moments before looking away, back towards the door. "I didn't know it was this bad."

Daryl glared it him. "Yeah, Merle, you did. You just didn't care enough to stick around. Don't you tell me you don't fuckin' know what he's been doin'. How many times did you stop him when you were here, huh? You think he only put hands on me when you were around. Fuck you." He tried to step around him, but Merle grabbed him from behind.

"Where the hell are you goin'? You're covered in blood for fucks sake!"

Daryl jerked out of Merle's grip and shook his head as he stormed down the steps, before Merle could say a word he was sprinting around the house and towards the woods.

~H~

Daryl knew that he had brought all this on himself. Carol had called early before his old man had even came home, letting him know that they wouldn't be getting there until late and she would have to wait until tomorrow to meet him at the lake. So when his dad had came in, pissed off about something, he hadn't kept his mouth shut like he knew he should. Daryl was pissed about not seeing her and his dad was pissed simply because he hated his youngest son enough that his very presence put him in a bad mood.

It was almost one in the morning and Daryl knew she'd be in bed but he couldn't wait anymore. And he honestly had no where else to go. He hadn't wanted to wait to see her anyway. In every letter she sent she described in great detail how much she hated being away from him and he knew exactly how she felt. And now, just like the year before last when his dad had broken his arm, he needed her.

He picked his way through the woods slower than he would have liked but the pain in his back, his chest and his ribs was slowing him down. Not only that but he couldn't see hardly anything through the dense trees. He was letting instinct guide him towards the lake and when he finally stepped through the trees he let out a sigh of relief.

He was surprised to see that her bedroom light was on and he went right to it, intending to knock quietly to get her attention but he stopped suddenly with his fist up, stopping right before he could rap his knuckles against the glass. In the soft light from her lamp he could see her sitting up against her headboard in bed, her knees drawn up and a notebook propped on her bare thighs.

Seeing her dressed in nothing but a pair of the shortest cotton sleep shorts he'd ever seen and a threadbare shirt with her long legs on display had him forgetting all about the pain in his back and the ache in his ribs for a moment. She was writing, a small smile playing around her lips. Her hair was piled up in a messy bun and for the first time he thought to take a second to admire the slender column of her neck.

Then he realized that he was being a sick fucking pervert and he rapped a few times on the glass, just loud enough for her to hear it. She was so startled that she threw the notebook into the air and jumped out of bed. He chuckled slightly but then groaned as it sent a sharp pain through his ribs.

Her wide frightened eyes flew to the window and then he saw her gasp in surprise before hurrying over and sliding it open. "You scared me to death! I was hoping you would sneak out to see me but I wasn't going to ask you to-" As soon as her eyes adjusted to the dark and she really looked at him she covered her mouth with her hand. She surprised him when she crawled right out the window in her bare feet and sleep clothes. "Oh, Daryl. What happened?" She whispered, her hand going to his face.

He took a second to take her in, letting her presence calm the angry storm in his mind. She looked even better now than she had last year. "Can you walk for a while?" He asked, ignoring her question.

She shook her head. "You need to come inside. I'll clean you up."

He hated his dad even more now because this was suppose to be the moment he looked forward to the most every year. The moment that made all the bad worth it, and it was soiled with the stink of that man's violence. And then he remembered vividly the need to end him. He swallowed hard and let her take his hand, wincing because the knuckles were split. She looked down and cursed softly.

"Go to the front. I'll go back in through the window and unlock the door," she whispered.

He nodded, watching her carefully. He felt strange. He felt like he was balanced on a dangerous precipice, knowing that he was really going to do it. He had been ready to kill his own father. And it was starting to scare the fuck out of him. Would he have done it? If Merle hadn't shown up would he have been able to jam a piece of glass into his fathers throat? He knew the answer but he tried not the think about it. And knowing the answer, how could he not be afraid that someday, somehow, he would end up hurting her. He shook the thought as he climbed the porch steps.

She pulled him inside and shut the door silently. Her parents room was at the other end of the house but he was still afraid one of them would wake up. He let her pull him to her room and then the fussing started. Her blue eyes were filled with worry, her brow creasing. "You're bleeding," she said in a low voice, checking him over.

He nodded.

When she met his eyes hers softened and then her hand went to his cheek. "I'm not going to ask again what happened because I already know. I'm gonna find you something else to wear and I'm gonna clean you up and you aren't going to argue, okay?"

He shook his head. "I'm fine, Carol. I shouldn't have even came here. I just-"

"Don't you ever say that again, Daryl Dixon. If something bad happens and I'm here then this is the first damn place you should come to. I'll be right back, okay?"

He nodded, more than a little surprised at her tone. Carol was turning into a sassy ass for sure. She slipped out quickly and all he could do was stand there because if he sat down he was going to get blood all over her stuff. She came back a few minutes later with a large glass bowl of soapy water and a plastic bag tucked under her arm. She sat the bag down on the dresser and started pulling things out of it.

"You've grown," she said with a small smile as she tossed a pair of plaid sleep pants and a black t-shirt onto the bed. "These are my dad's but he won't mind if you borrow them."

He didn't say a word. He simply took her in until she looked up at him and spoke.

"Take off your shirt," she said as she wrung soapy water from a wash cloth in her hands.

He shook his head and took a step away from her, fear, humiliation and anger, washing through him. He wasn't angry at her. He didn't think she could ever do anything to make him mad. He was angry at the situation. He didn't want her to see him like that. She knew what his life was like but her seeing the proof written all over his flesh was different. He couldn't stand looking at himself so the thought of her seeing him made him sick to his stomach. What if...

"Daryl, please. You know you can trust me. Let me do what little bit I can," she pleaded.

His jaw clinched painfully because he knew he would let her. He didn't want her to. He shouldn't have came here, no matter what she said. This was his hell. This was his problem and he had no right to bring it right to her doorstep. No right at all. But he didn't say any of that. He took a deep breath and stepped closer, peeling the sweat and blood dampened shirt over his head, watching her closely.

If he repulsed her she did a good job of hiding it. She started with the cut in the corner of his lip, gently wiping. He hadn't taken too many hits to the face this time. She methodically cleaned the blood away from the wide cut on his chest. She didn't comment on it. She cleaned away more blood from his torso and when her eyes took in the angry bruises over his ribs she bit her lip and blinked tears away. With a dry towel she patted the skin around the cut dry and then smeared him up with some kind of cream and then taped gauze over it. She gently ran her fingers over the bruising that looked like an angry storm cloud that blossomed from his sternum all the way to his back. The touch was so soft that he closed his eyes, enjoying the feel even through the dull pain.

When he turned, showing her the worst of the damage he heard her take in a sharp breath before the warm cloth started over his back. He didn't know what she might say when it was over. No matter what, he never felt like she pitied him, not even that very first day all those years ago, and to think that he was going to see pity in her eyes when he turned around made him sick.

It took her a while to get everything bandaged and the water in the large glass bowl was red with the blood she had cleaned away. When it was over he was about to turn around and face whatever it was he would see in her eyes but then her arms went around him from behind. Her hands locked together low on his stomach, where she knew that there wasn't any injuries, and then her forehead pressed between his shoulder blades. Her warmth seeped into him and he felt himself start to relax.

When she finally loosened her hold on him he turned. She raised her head and he saw that her eyes were red rimmed and she looked upset but there wasn't any pity there. She looked him in the eye, squared her shoulders and pursed her lips together. "Four years. Just four more years and it's just gonna be me and you and we won't have to worry about this ever again. Four years isn't that long."

It was all he could do to get from one summer to the next. He never really thought past that and the prospect of looking past that was strangely exhilarating. The thought of getting to see her whenever he wanted instead of just for a few weeks a year had his lips turning up in the ghost of a smile but then it fell when he thought of something else. She wasn't like him. Not really. How many more years would this be enough for her? "You don't think you'll get sick of this after a while?" he asked.

She scowled. "What are you talking about?"

He shrugged and looked away. "You only get to see me once a year. Wouldn't it be easier for you to have a boyfriend that at least lived in the same state as you? Somebody you can see whenever you want?"

She shook her head. "No," she said, her voice full of conviction. "Me and you met that day because we were suppose to meet that day. I'll never feel anything for anyone else that I feel for you. I know that it doesn't make any sense. I know that to anybody else, this whole thing seems like just a couple of little kids that don't know enough about the world to know what we'll want when we're grown ups. But those people are wrong and I know that you feel the same thing I do."

He watched her carefully. "Okay then. Four more years. Then what?"

Now she smiled. "You really haven't thought about it?"

He shook his head.

"My mom and dad were completely exhausted so they'll sleep in in the morning. You change clothes and I'll grab you something to eat. Maybe someday I'll tell you all about it."

"So you've thought a lot about it, huh?" He asked, taking the shirt she handed him and slipping it on. The cuts felt a lot better already.

She laughed. "I've been thinking about nothing else for the past three years."

She left the room and he hurriedly changed his pants. Then he just stood there because he didn't know what else he was suppose to do. When she finally came back in she was carrying two Cokes and a paper plate with a sandwich piled so high he was going to have to squash the hell out of it just to fit it into his mouth. That was saying a lot too cause he had a big mouth.

She sat the drinks down on the side table and shoved the plate into his hands. He sat down on the edge of the bed, watching as she went to the TV, readying a movie. Again, he caught himself being a goddamn creep because he was staring and her damn shorts were way too short. Before he realized it he'd crammed half the damn sandwich into his mouth as a distraction even though it wasn't distracting at all.

How in the hell could he go through what he had been through tonight and now he couldn't quit staring at Carol's ass? Hormones. That was his excuse. Just like last year. He was ready for this awkward puberty shit to be over but he wasn't counting on it. Merle never seemed to have outgrown it. He still couldn't believe that he used to think her mom was hotter than her. Now her mom just seemed kind of... old. Still pretty, but not like Carol was.

"Will you sleep with me?" She asked, turning suddenly.

He swallowed hard, realizing quickly that he hadn't chewed the food in his mouth and then coughed, trying to dislodge it. His mouth was suddenly very dry.

"Good Lord, Daryl," she muttered, grabbing his drink and handing it to him quickly.

He took a few gulps and finally, and painfully, it went down. He looked up at her, his face blazing. "What?" He choked out, his voice cracking with nerves. Was she serious? He'd only even kissed her once for Christ's sakes!

"Will you sleep with me?" She asked again, hands going to her hips.

"Like, _sleep_?"

Her mouth dropped open then and her own face flamed. "Yes! Sleep. Oh my God, Daryl, get your head out of the gutter! Really?" She hissed and slapped him in the arm.

Oh God, now he could go ahead and die. He ran a hand through his hair and looked at the rest of the food on his plate, suddenly he wasn't hungry anymore. She took it from him, knowing him well enough to know he was finished, and tossed it into the can next to her desk. "Well, you coulda worded it better than that," he muttered in his own defense.

Her knees hit the mattress next to him and he side eyed her as she crawled to the head of the bed and then flopped over onto her back, remote in her hand. He scooted down until his head was on a pillow and tried to relax. There was no relaxing though. After a few minutes he heard her giggle. Giggle for fucks sake. He'd never heard her do that before and it had him glancing over at her, a scowl in place.

She was looking at the TV though, her cheeks still pink but her eyes dancing mischievously.

"What?" he asked, shoving his arms under the pillow so his head was more elevated.

She shook her head and then did it again, she giggled. It was the girliest goddamn sound he'd ever heard her make. "Do you actually think about that? About... you know. Doing that?" She asked, finally looking at him and grinning. " _Us_ doing that?"

He glared at her. "'Course not!" He was a fucking liar. He'd thought about it for months and the thought was fucking terrifying and exciting all at the same time. He stayed conflicted when it came to that. But it was hard not to think about something like that when Merle always talked about stuff like that.

"Yes you do."

"Shut up, Carol." He looked back at the TV but he didn't pay the least bit of attention to what was on.

"I've thought about it," she said, turning her head. "But when I think about it I think about at least being an adult. I guess stuff like that is different for boys. You're all wired different. The boys at school are all a bunch of disgusting perverts. Even some of the girls. There's girls that have actually done it already! Some even younger than me." She shook her head.

"Can we not talk about it?" He asked.

She rolled over, throwing her arm across his waist, and causing him to grunt. Grinning, with absolutely no shame at all, she raised up on her elbow and then she kissed him. Not like he'd kissed her the summer before either. She kissed him like she actually knew what she was doing and it didn't take long for him to catch on. Then he realized something and pushed her away gently, his eyes wide.

"Where the hell did you learn to kiss like that?" He asked accusingly.

She beamed, her eyes bright. "After last year I watched every movie that I could find that had a lot of kissing and I watched them until I was pretty sure that I would know what I was doing for next time."

His heart was slamming so hard that his ribs were starting to hurt again. "Well it worked."

She nodded and then leaned back down, only this time the kiss was different. This time her tongue actually brushed against his own. He remembered years ago he'd told her that he wasn't going to stick his tongue in her mouth and he almost laughed at what a stupid kid he had been.

He had no idea what movie they were suppose to be watching.

~H~

The sex talk. If someone would have told him that someday he would be getting the fucking sex talk from his girlfriend's dad, he would have called them insane. But now here he sat, right at the kitchen table, with Carol and her parents, getting exactly that. The sex talk.

It wasn't like they had even done anything all that bad. Not really. They had kissed and that was it. Sure, they had kissed a _lot_ but fuck, she was only here for two weeks. He needed all the practice he could get. Their hands, and the rest of their bodies, had stayed to themselves. There was no reason to get this lecture. Merle Dixon was his brother so he already knew all about sex.

Last night they had fallen asleep like two idiots and she had forgot to lock her door. Their clothes were on but that hadn't seemed to matter this morning when her parents had came in to wake her up for breakfast and Daryl was asleep with her, in the bed, and she was so close that she was nearly sleeping right on top of him. They had woke up to the sound of her dad clearing his throat.

"We aren't saying that the two of you are being sexually active," Mary said, her hands gripping her coffee mug so hard Daryl thought it was going to shatter in her hands. "All we're saying is, the two of you are older now. Your bodies are changing and it's normal for two kids your age to... explore."

"Oh my God," Carol moaned and then slid down in her seat.

Daryl kept his eyes trained on the center of the table and hoped for an earthquake to hit to put an end this horror.

"We slept in the same bed! Slept! That was all we did!" Carol wailed. "There isn't any reason for you to sit us down and..."

"Carol," Dean said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look, I'll be the first to admit that I'm looking forward to a house full of grandkids. I'm just saying that I would much rather the two of you wait until you've graduated high school and gotten your lives together. We aren't saying we don't want you two together. Just, not in the same bed until you're adults."

Mary cleared her throat. "Listen, Daryl," she said softly, pausing until he looked up at her. "You know that we think the world of you. And we know that the two of you don't get to see each other nearly enough, but that doesn't mean it's okay for you to sneak in. Especially when you know we wouldn't mind if you had came over late and just slept on the couch."

"I know. We were watchin' a movie and I just fell asleep. We didn't do... _that_ ," he muttered. "We didn't do anything."

Dean and Mary shared a look and then they looked between Daryl and Carol. He was pretty sure that the worst of it was over. Now that him and Carol were aware of teenage pregnancy and how to avoid it. And how celibacy is the only way to avoid any of that one hundred percent.

Once they were finally finished him and Carol escaped to her room, keeping the door open since that was a new rule. Like it even mattered if the door was open or not because five minutes later her mom came in to tell them they'd be at the neighbors if the two of them needed anything, though she did give them a warning that they would be in and out to check up on them.

Daryl felt like they thought he was some sort of sexual predator, here to corrupt their daughter, and impregnate her but he didn't say anything. He didn't have time. As soon as Carol heard the front door close, she insisted on him taking off his shirt.

At first he'd been more than eager, regardless of what her parents had just lectured them about for the last hour. But then he realized that she just wanted to clean him up and change the bandages.

A lot of their time that summer was spent in the woods but this time it wasn't exploring the land. It was really the only place they could get any privacy anymore. He didn't mind though. He was sure that they had actually kissed so much those two weeks that he'd never get the taste of her lips off of his own. He hoped so anyway.


	6. Chapter 6

**I've been working on getting the last chapter of this finished and it's difficult. Extremely difficult. But I still have a few days to get it finished so I'm not going to stress. Hope everyone had a good weekend! Thanks for reading!**

 **Chapter Six**

Daryl was a quiet, stoic, brooding fifteen year old, even without his father around.

The man had taken off the night that Daryl had nearly killed him and he hadn't been back. Merle didn't talk about it. The two of them had filed a missing person's report but since the old man's clothes and his gun were missing, and he was known to be explosive and unpredictable, nothing was really done about it. The cops came out to the house once and then it was over. It was like he had never existed at all.

Daryl thought his dad was dead and he thought his brother had killed him. But he never said a word. He'd accused Merle of abandoning him that night and Merle had deserved it because he _had_ abandoned him. Maybe Merle cared more about him than he had let on and getting rid of Daryl's tormentor had been Merle's way of making up for all the abuse that Daryl had endured.

Merle and him got along for the most part but that was usually because Daryl stayed in his room and Merle spent a lot of time out. When he was home he usually brought people with him and Daryl hated being around them. The girls that Merle brought around were fucking gross and had no qualms about trying to talk him into doing all sorts of nasty shit, even though he wasn't even old enough to drive. If he wasn't so... him, he would have been able to screw a different chick every night.

The thought made his stomach turn sour.

So he kept to himself. Merle had surprised him by gifting him with a crossbow for Christmas and he spent a lot more time in the woods. He kept their freezer stocked with meat and it gave him something to do other than mope. His home life had improved but school was still the same as it had always been. He kept to himself and the people that didn't act completely repulsed by him seemed too intimidated by his silent treatment to bother talking to him.

For the most part, life was more peaceful, but still very lonely.

At three o'clock on the morning of June twenty third Merle burst into his room. "Phone asshole!" He yelled, even though he knew Daryl was up because he'd sat up quickly as soon as he had heard the door.

Daryl frowned, glancing at the clock on the nightstand. "Who the fuck is it?" No one ever called him. Every once in a while Carol would call long distance but she sure as hell wouldn't be calling him at three in the damn morning.

Merle shrugged and flipped the light switch, causing Daryl to wince against the glare. "Didn't ask. Don't care," he said, squinting.

Daryl grumbled as he threw off the blanket and padded barefoot into the kitchen, grabbing the phone Merle had left dangling by the cord. What an asshole. "Hello?"

"Daryl?"

He frowned and hit the light switch. "Carol?" He asked, unable to mask the concern in his voice because hers was rough and broke on his name.

"It's me. There's been an accident. Daddy... we're at the hospital and I just wanted to hear your voice."

"Is he alright? Are you alright!" Daryl asked, his heart sinking as bile rose in the back of his throat.

There was a long pause and then she sniffled and when she spoke again he had to strain to understand her. "I wasn't with him. We don't know anything yet. We've been here for hours and he's in surgery and my family is here and no one will tell me anything. I wish you were here."

The sound of her voice was killing him. All the times she'd been there for him and now that she needed him, he was to far away to offer her anything. He glanced into the living room towards Merle's closed bedroom door, then to the nail by the front door where the keys to the truck were hanging. "What hospital?"

Her broken voice rambled off the name of the hospital and he jotted it down on the back of an envelope. "I can call you back when I find something out but he's probably going to be back there for a while still. I don't know what happened. He had to work late and another car was coming around the curve and must have went into his lane and hit him head on and..."

"Hey," he said, his voice softer than he had ever heard it. "Let me get dressed and then I'll be on my way, alright? Just hope for the best for now and I'll see you in a few hours."

He winced when he heard a sob escape her, clenching his teeth and closing his eyes against the pain in that one broken sound. "Okay." There was a measure of relief in her voice. She knew if he said he would make it then he would and he would get there one way or another. Either Merle was going to take him or he was going to take the damn truck himself. She had all the faith in the world in him and there was no way in hell he'd let her down. Not when she needed him as bad as she seemed to need him now.

Daryl hung up the phone and rushed to Merle's room, throwing the door open without knocking. He cursed and then reached back in to grip the handle and close it again, knowing he'd never get that image out of his head. Some woman he didn't know riding Merle like he was some kind of goddamn bronco. He could have gone his whole fucking life without the sight of his brothers balls burned into his brain.

He shook his head and then banged on the door. "Merle, hurry the hell up. I need a favor!" He yelled.

"You fuckin' serious right now?" Merle yelled back.

"I need a fuckin' ride, Merle. Come on!" He called, tipping his head back and staring at the ceiling.

He heard Merle laugh then. "Hell yeah, little brother. Just wait your turn and she'll be right there."

"Fuck it," he growled, his stomach turning at Merle's words. Even if he was that kind of guy, he'd rip his own junk off before he'd ever think about taking Merle's sloppy seconds. He went into his room and dressed in a hurry.

He refused to think that Dean might not make it. He was a good man. He was the only good man Daryl had ever met. He took care of his family and he made it a point to make sure Carol had what she needed and he never raised his hand to his wife or his daughter. Daryl had never even heard him raise his voice. Not even last summer when he'd caught the two of them in bed together. Of course, they hadn't been doing anything but sleeping. Maybe if he'd caught them kissing he would have yelled, but that was besides the point. The point was, there were far too many bad men out there for one of the best ones to die like that. He wouldn't accept that.

He yanked his drawer open and grabbed a wad of cash he had stashed in the back. He'd done some labor work for a guy that was rebuilding a barn a few miles away and he'd saved every penny. He had four hundred dollars put back that Merle didn't know about. That was more than enough to get him to South Carolina. He wrote a note telling Merle the basics and stuck it to the fridge. He knew Merle would never let him take his truck if he asked and he felt like time was slipping through his hands like sand. He couldn't wait on his brother to get his shit together.

He threw open the front door, grabbed the truck keys and then ran down the steps, not giving the house a backwards glance before shoving the keys in the ignition and throwing up dust and gravel as he tore out of the drive. If he got pulled over he was fucked. He had a learners permit and that was it and he was about to take his brother's truck across state lines. He stopped at a gas station and filled the truck up, bought himself a large coffee and a road atlas and then was back on the road. It was a four hour drive.

He made it in three.

~H~

He made one more stop at another gas station to get directions to the hospital and to refill the coffee, even though he was pretty wired. He didn't usually drink it so the caffeine was a real boost. He had made it all the way there without getting stopped, even though he drove over the speed limit the whole time. It was surprising actually because people told him that other than his height, he still looked like a little boy. He hated hearing it but he'd heard it from enough people to assume that they were probably on to something.

The hospital parking lot was as crowded as he had expected it to be and he had to drive around a few times to find a spot. He wished that he could have called her again to let her know he was close but damn if that wouldn't have just taken more time.

He was directed through a set of double doors and then down a long hallway. Another door led him to a waiting area and there was already about six people there. He spotted Carol sitting in the corner of an industrial looking sofa next to a sullen looking man that had his hands clasped between his knees, his head down. Daryl took her in and felt his heart break. She looked small and much younger than last time he'd seen her. Right now she just looked like a lost little girl.

He took another step into the waiting room and she suddenly looked up, like she could feel him there. Everyone in the room turned to stare as she launched herself off of the couch, sprinted across the room and then threw herself into his arms so hard that he nearly fell. He ignored the people that were staring and put one hand on the back of her head as his arm went around her. Her body quaked against his and she muffled her sobs into his shirt. She was squeezing him so hard he almost couldn't breath but he didn't mind. It scared him though.

"Have you heard anything?" He muttered into her hair.

She nodded against him. "They just came a few minutes ago. He didn't make it. He's dead. I-" She shook her head against him and another round of heart wrenching sobs tore through her. He tightened his arms around her, like if he let go she might shatter right there in front of him. She felt too small. Breakable.

"Where's your mom?" He asked after a few more minutes.

"They had to sedate her. She..."

"That's enough. You ain't gotta talk about it." He felt a good measure of pain himself because he'd liked and respected the man, but he couldn't imagine what she must be feeling.

The room was starting to clear out, the people, obviously her family members, all expressing their condolences as they left but she didn't acknowledge them. Most of them, though obviously curious about who he could be, gave him kind smiles and nods before leaving. None bothered staying there with her. She was shaking and he moved his hands over her back, like he could rub some warmth back into her, even though he knew he couldn't. She was cold from the inside.

Wordlessly he pushed her away just enough so he could walk them to the couch. When he sat down next to her she surprised him when she moved, sitting sideways on his lap with her legs pulled up next to him. Her arms went right back around him and she tucked her head under his chin. "I don't know if my mom can do this," she whispered. "And I know I'm not strong enough to do this. As soon as the doctor came out and talked to her she just, she lost it. She started screaming and screaming and I..."

He tightened his arms around her again and shook his head. "You're both gonna be alright," he muttered, not knowing if it was true but hoping that it was.

She shuddered but didn't say anything else. After a while the trembling abated and her arms loosened. Her breathing evened out and her body relaxed against his. He leaned his head against the back of the couch and stared up at the drop tile ceiling. Occasionally a nurse would walk by but no other visitors showed up. He wished there was more he could do. He felt useless and he felt angry.

It wasn't right that Dean was gone. Carol and her mom still needed him. How could something so unfair happen to the best people he knew? It was one of those questions that he knew he would never find an answer for. It was just life. Why had he been cursed with parents that treated him like shit? Everyone was dealt an unfair hand.

He felt his eyelids start to droop, even though he wanted to stay awake in case she woke up. He fought it for as long as he could but eventually he couldn't anymore and he drifted into a fitful sleep.

~H~

Daryl's eyes snapped open when he felt her shifting on his lap. He looked down, loosening his hold on her so she could get more comfortable. She stretched her legs and then moved so her head was on his shoulder. He swatted her hair out of his face and then pushed it back away from her own face, craning his neck so he could look her over.

Her eyes opened then, blinking rapidly before coming up to meet his. She sat up and it put more pressure on his bladder, causing him to groan but he wouldn't make her move. As long as he wasn't about to piss on her he'd stay put as long as she needed him to. "I can't believe you made it all the way here," she said, sounding much more like herself than she had earlier.

He shrugged and then grunted when she pulled her legs up and moved so she was straddling his lap and then she hugged him. He clenched his jaw, telling himself that now was definitely not the time to be thinking about anything other than offering her some comfort. She wasn't straddling him to try to seduce him, she just needed to be closer to him.

And goddamn, she was closer alright. Closer than she'd ever been before.

"I'm so glad you came. I didn't call so you would. I just needed to hear your voice. Everything was happening so fast and I didn't know what to do and..." Her voice trailed off and then her lips met his suddenly, surprising him.

He tangled one hand in her hair and his other went to her hip, gripping hard to keep her from moving. The kiss grew in intensity, a lot more intense than it had ever gotten last summer and he realized that she was using him to forget about everything else and he didn't blame her. He wanted to help any way he could and if this was what he'd have to do for the duration of this visit then by God he would do his duty and do this all the time.

When she broke the kiss her face was flushed but she still looked so sad that he wanted to start kissing her again, but he waited for her to say something. When she did her voice cracked again, like earlier, but still sounded much stronger. "I need to go check on my mom. I want to go home." He nodded and let go of her so she could move off of him but she didn't move right away. "I love you. When all this happened all I could think about was how much I needed you here."

He swallowed hard. "I love you, too," he said, his voice low.

"How did you get here so fast?" She asked.

"I borrowed my brother's truck," he lied.

A voice came from the other side of the room, calm and raspy and too familiar. "Borrowed? I believe you stole it, baby brother."

Daryl was sure his eyes were about to bug out of his head and Carol crawled off of him, turning and sitting down heavily next to him on the couch. Merle was sitting in a chair right across from them, only about ten feet away. His legs were splayed out and he had his fingers laced behind his head that was resting against the wall. He raised one eyebrow and then his eyes slid over to Carol. Daryl knew he'd been there for a while.

"And who's this pretty little thing, boy? You never mentioned you had yourself a lady," Merle was leering and Daryl was trying to replay his and Carol's conversation in his head, hoping he hadn't said anything too embarrassing.

"I'm Carol," she said, her smile brittle because it was forced.

"She's a friend," Daryl said quickly.

Merle nodded and grinned. He looked like a goddamn shark. "Best kind to have. One that'll just crawl all over your lap like that without a second thought. Wish I had friends like her."

Carol stood up and gave him an apologetic look. "I'm gonna go check on my mom."

Daryl nodded.

"Nice to meet you, darlin'," Merle called after her and Carol sped up her steps. When she was through the door Merle leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and studying Daryl carefully. "Cut the shit. Who the hell is that girl and why the fuck did you steal my goddamn truck to drive across state fuckin' lines to see her?"

"She's a friend, like I said. She called and said her dad was here and it looked bad and I tried to get you to bring me, I was willin' to pay you, but you were busy," he shrugged, "So I took the truck."

Merle studied him. "She ain't no friend. Friends don't act like how the two of you were just actin'. You don't let people pat you on the fuckin' back, and that girl was doin' a lot more than back pattin'. You don't let people close, little brother. I know that. How the fuck do you even know these people?"

Daryl swiped a hand over his face. "Her family owns a house on the lake behind our property, alright. I met her years ago."

Merle stared until Daryl was squirming in his seat. "She your girlfriend? Is that why you've been turnin' down pussy left and right since you turned fifteen?"

Daryl made a face. "She's my girlfriend, yeah, but I'd turn down those girls regardless."

Merle chuckled. "Went and got yourself a girlfriend. I'll be damned. Been worried too cause I thought you were queer."

"Fuck you, Merle," he grumbled. "I got too much to deal with right now to have to worry about you, alright. She just found out this mornin' that her dad died, her mom's a goddamn mess and she needs me so I ain't goin' back with you. Her dad was a good man and I'm gonna do what I can for them. You probably don't get that, I know. But you don't have to understand the situation. I don't expect you to."

"How long have you been with her?" Merle asked, looking like he might actually take this serious.

Daryl ran a hand through his hair. "Four years," he muttered.

"And you only see her once a fuckin' year?"

Daryl nodded. "For two weeks. Sometimes three."

"Son a bitch. You must have it bad, little brother."

Daryl was about to tell him to fuck off again but he didn't have a chance. Carol came back into the room, her eyes dry but red rimmed. He ignored his brother and stood up. "How's she doin'?"

Carol shook her head. "She's still out of it. She's..." Carol shook her head. "Can you take me home? She said she would call my uncle when she was able. I think she just wants to... She wants to stay close to my dad." She was fighting back tears for Merle's benefit.

Daryl looked at his brother, hoping that for once he would support him and not do or say anything to make this situation worse. Merle looked between the two of them and then he let out a breath. "I'll tell ya what. I'm gonna follow you two on my bike."

Daryl gaped at him as Carol burrowed into his side. His arm went around her waist without him even thinking about it. "You're just gonna let me stay?"

Merle rubbed the back of his neck absently and Daryl could see the indecision in his eyes. Merle wanted to do what he thought would be right by his brother but it went against his nature. "I'll get myself a room for a few days. You handle your shit. Get your girl here right and then we're out. And that's about as fair as I'm feelin' like bein'. And if you ever steal my truck again I'll break your goddamn legs."

"You don't have to stay at a hotel," Carol said as Merle turned to head for the door.

Merle stopped, glancing over his shoulder. "Then what the hell would you suggest?"

Carol swallowed, her eyes wide. "I should talk to my mom when she gets... better. But we have a guest room. You could stay there. If it meant Daryl could stay longer I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

Merle frowned, staring at her. Daryl understood the look. Merle wasn't used to people being generous. He wasn't used to people being kind for no reason. Daryl had been around this family for a long time and he got it, but Merle wouldn't. He looked between them suspiciously and then wordlessly walked out.

~H~

Daryl was amazed at how swiftly it all went. Three days after Dean died, he found himself sitting next to Carol at a the Funeral Home. There were a ton of people there and the preacher was a man that Dean had grown up with. There was a lot about the man that Daryl had never known that he was learning now, listening to friends and family tell of the great things he had done in his short time on earth.

Carol held her chin up and her eyes were dry but her hand was squeezing his so hard he winced. He had stayed at their house since leaving the hospital with his brother. Mary was hanging in there as well but Daryl knew it was for show. They were both devastated over their loss and Daryl had no idea how to make anything any better.

Merle had lingered in the background but Daryl knew that he was itching to go back home. He wasn't sure where Merle was now. Probably at a bar somewhere.

After everything was finally over Carol's house was packed with people and people was the one thing he couldn't force himself to deal with. He escaped to her room, where he'd actually slept the last few nights. If you could call it sleep. She constantly woke up and she cried a lot. He had to remind her to eat, to drink. She was trying but she was in such bad shape that it scared him.

Mary watched them closely and the day after the funeral, the day that him and Merle were suppose to go back home, she asked them if they could talk with her while Carol was in the shower. Merle seemed uneasy and Daryl had to admit that he felt the same way. When they were sitting down she scooted Merle a cup of coffee and he nodded his thanks, squirming in his seat. She gave them both a sad smile.

"We should be hittin' the road soon," Merle hedged.

Mary nodded and glanced between them. She seemed to have aged ten years since last summer. "That was what I wanted to talk to the two of you about. I can't even begin to express how much I appreciate you being here," she looked at Merle, "Both of you. Daryl, if not for you I'm not sure how Carol could have gotten through the last few days."

Now it was Daryl's turn to squirm but she wasn't finished.

"You've taken care of her while I've been... well, you've been here to see where I've been. I've been so wrapped up in my own grief that I left her to deal with this by herself," She smiled softly, "But she hasn't been alone at all. You two," she shook her head and laughed softly, humorlessly, "I've never seen anything like it. You are far too young to be as in love as the two of you are."

Daryl's face heated up and he refused to look at his brother but when he looked at Mary, her eyes were now trained on Merle.

"I wanted to ask you if he could stay. Not for good, of course. But she needs him and I need her to get through this. If he's willing to stay for the rest of the summer, would you allow it?"

Daryl felt his heart slam hard in his chest and his wide eyes finally fixed on Merle. The summer? The whole rest of the fucking summer? He had dreaded leaving her, knowing how worried he was going to be. She needed more time to heal and she wasn't going to be able to heal on her own. Merle was staring at Mary, his eyes unreadable.

"You want your fifteen year old daughter's fifteen year old boyfriend to move in with her for the whole summer? Sleepin' under the same roof."

Mary raised her chin a few inches and the woman he'd known for years showed through the pain for an instant. "I want to do everything in my power to make sure that my fifteen year old daughter has everything she needs to get through this. I believe the only thing she needs right now is him," she gestured towards Daryl with a nod. "Whatever these two have, it was built on a solid foundation of pain. _His_ pain. Carol's been this boy's one saving grace in the turmoil that's been his life since they've met. And now it's his turn. Her world just got ripped apart, and the only person I can think of that can understand where she is right now, the only person that can make this bearable, is him. He knows how to help her and she won't let anyone else close enough to even try."

Merle didn't say anything for a few long moments and then he leaned back in his chair, his eyes finally meeting Daryl's. He pursed his lips and then shrugged lightly. "Don't do anything stupid."

Daryl shook his head. "I won't."

"If you hit it, at least wear somethin'. I don't wanna be a damn uncle right now."

Mary snorted, which was better than any other reaction he could have hoped for. Daryl was too stunned to even blush at Merle's words. All he could do was shake his head again. "I won't hit it."

Merle laughed at that and then stood up. "Call me every couple of days to let me know what's goin' on. I'll make the drive to visit on the weekends."

Daryl stood up too, shocked that Merle was actually going to let him do this. And also more than a little surprised that he was going to bother to come and visit him at all.

"Thank you, Merle," Mary said, her eyes tearing up again.

Merle nodded and then walked out.


	7. Chapter 7

**This chapter was kind of hard to write but hopefully I did okay. We shall see. Hope you enjoy this one. Thanks for reading!**

 **Chapter Seven**

 _ **Sixteen years old...**_

Carol's letters weren't as upbeat as they had been before she lost her dad but she still seemed to be okay. When he'd stayed the summer at her house in South Carolina they had fallen into a strange routine. The dynamics in the house had become extremely odd. For starters, he played the role of the adult for the first two months he was there.

Mary had finally found some solace. It came to her at the bottom of a bottle and Daryl watched as the days dragged by and she lost herself in alcohol. He had been reminded of his own mom but he had stood by and watched her spiral without a word. More than once during that first month he'd cleaned her up and helped her to bed.

He took over the room across the hall from Carol's and then Carol took over the same room. The two of them kept the house clean, kept food in the refrigerator, made sure dinner was cooked every night, even if it was mostly microwaved meals. They were efficient and responsible and Daryl even snagged a job doing the same thing he did at home, doing construction clean up for five dollars an hour under the table just so he didn't feel like a total mooch. He wanted his own money.

They learned how to balance a check book and how to pay bills. For that first month Mary was drunk, Carol was too quiet and Daryl was exhausted. He didn't work because he really had to. Carol and her mom were pretty much set for a long time with the payout from the life insurance policy, which was doubled because Dean had died in an accident.

They had slept in the same bed but Merle's worries were for nothing. All they had done in that bed was sleep. There had been many nights he would wake up to her sobbing quietly and he did what he could to console her. To at least hold some of the pain at bay. She was depressed over the loss of her dad, he already knew that, but when he found out that a lot of her depression was because of her mother's inability to sober up, he'd put his foot down. Mary had come home one day from some outing and Daryl had been waiting for her.

He'd not been very nice. Tough love was affective. He'd gathered up every bottle of alcohol in the house and had them waiting on the counter by the sink when she came in. She had watched as he wordlessly started pouring them out, two bottles at a time.

She had made a grab for them, making sure he knew that what she did was none of his damn business. He'd shoved her ass into a chair and yelled at her to get her fucking shit together, channeling as much of his brother as he could. It hadn't taken a lot of channeling though because he was pissed.

Mary hadn't just wanted him to stay because he was good for Carol. She had wanted him there because she'd been too weak to handle her daughter's pain along with her own and he'd be goddamned if he was going to sit back and watch anyone, even Carol's own mother, hurt her anymore than she'd already been hurt. He understood that Mary was going through her own hell, but it wasn't fair for Carol to have to worry about her mom so much just after losing her dad. He wouldn't let it happen.

His second month was just as rough, even though he was seeing improvement. He felt like he was in way over his head. He had felt helpless most of the time but things had gradually gotten to a better place. Mary cut down on the drinking and Carol started smiling every once in a while. She had watched him when she thought he wasn't looking. The night before Merle had came to pick him up to bring him back home Carol had broken down again.

She hadn't wanted him to go and he hadn't wanted to, but summer was over, school would be starting in a couple of days and her and her mom had to start building their life again without him around. She understood, no matter how bad they both hated being apart.

That had been eight months ago. According to her letters Carol and her mom would be at the lake house and their plans were to stay the whole summer but she wasn't sure when they would be there and he hadn't gotten a letter from her in weeks. She also hadn't called and no one had answered the times that he had tried to call her.

He was pissed off and he was worried and he wasn't in the fucking mood to deal with anyone's bullshit but just his luck, as he was lying in bed trying to go to sleep, he heard someone banging on the front door. A few minutes later he heard someone turn the stereo up and then the sounds of more and more people coming.

He sat up, cursing out loud as he yanked on a pair of jeans and then threw his arms into a sleeveless flannel. He was fucking tired and stressed out and he wasn't wanting to deal with this. He was sixteen fucking years old but sometimes dealing with his brother's antics made him feel like he was fifty. He yanked the door open and stared out, grimacing at the crowd in his living room.

Merle's crowd was pretty rough. The men were mostly ex cons and the women were just, well, not Daryl's cup of tea at all. They ranged in age from just a few years older than himself to nearly forty. Merle had no qualms about banging any of them, as long as they were legal and they were free. Daryl scowled, stepping out into the living room and slamming his bedroom door shut.

"Wanna beer?" Merle asked from the doorway, grinning as Daryl started buttoning his shirt.

He shook his head, knowing if he started drinking one of two things would happen. He would either end up in a fight or he would end up making a damn ass of himself. He wasn't willing to do either at the moment.

He was about to go back to his room but he decided against it. Twice, during Merle's stupid parties he'd woken up to people in his room. One had been a woman so drunk that she'd tried to crawl into his bed. He'd kindly shoved her ass out his door. He should have invested in a lock.

He sat down heavily on the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table. That was when one of the girls, blitzed out of her head and apparently excited over the music that was blaring through the room, climbed up on the table and thought it would be a good idea to start dancing. Soon she was joined by her friend. Daryl scowled and looked away as the other men whooped and encouraged the girls to take off some clothes.

He was smacked in the face with a tank top and against his better judgment he glanced up and made the horrible mistake of making eye contact with the girl. She grinned and then the next thing he knew she let herself fall backwards onto his lap. She was topless, not even a bra, and she was turning on his lap just as he was trying to throw her off of him. She nearly kissed him but he saw her coming and ducked his head, fouling her assault and then suddenly, the music abruptly stopped.

He looked over towards the stereo and he was sure that his heart stopped for a few long seconds. Carol stood there, arms crossed over her chest and a look filled with venom directed right at him. He'd known her for six years and had never seen her look like that before. Just then, the oblivious girl on his lap put her hand to his cheek, trying to turn his head so she could go in for the kill. He jerked his face away from her and then Carol smiled coldly and stalked towards the front door. He hadn't realized that the room had grown strangely quiet as everyone in the house watched.

He panicked then and threw the stupid topless girl off of him. Her ass landed on the table and then she toppled over but that fact barely registered as he vaulted over the back of the couch, catching Carol by the arm before she could storm out.

This was fucking bad. This was really bad. He hadn't talked to her in two weeks and now she shows up and there's a half naked girl on top of him. And she didn't look like she was ready to let him tell her that it wasn't what it looked like.

To his complete astonishment she jerked her arm out of his grip and then slapped him so hard his head whipped to the side.

A flash of anger sent his blood pounding hard through his veins and he felt his eyes darken, saw the regret and fear in her eyes but didn't care about either. She wasn't allowed to hurt him. She was the only goddamn person in the world that he trusted to never inflict pain. Not any kind of pain. Even if the slap hadn't really hurt that much, that wasn't the point.

She cried out, more in surprise than anything else, when he gripped her by the arm and then hauled her towards his room. With a room full of onlookers behind him he stormed in after her and then slammed the door so hard the glass rattled in the window. She spun around on him, tears shimmering in her eyes and that hate filled look still present. She tried to storm past him but he put himself between her and the door. "Get the hell out of my way," she snapped. "It's obvious I interrupted something out there. I won't keep you from it."

"Stop," he yelled when she tried to push past him again, he tried to make a grab for her but she was quick, dancing out of his way and storming right for the window.

"I have _nothing_ to say to you," she growled and then she stopped just as he was about to dive across the bed to stop her from crawling right out the window. She turned then. "No, actually, I do! How long have you been cheating on me? Years? Has this been going on all along and you just pretend to give a damn about me for the few weeks you get to see me during the summer? Is that it! Because trust me, Daryl Dixon, there's been plenty of times I could have messed around with other guys behind your back and you never would have known it but I would never _ever_ do that to you! After everything we've been through! After all these years you've been pretending to give a damn about me!" She picked up a glass and threw it right at his head but he ducked. It shattered behind him.

He gaped at her. "Are you on crack! I've never cheated on you!"

"There was a naked girl on your lap when I walked in! How is that _not_ cheating?" she yelled back. Daryl was aware that everyone out there could hear them. No one had bothered turning the music back up.

"She jumped on me! I didn't have shit to do with it! Take your crazy ass out there and ask everybody!"

She snorted and turned, reaching for the window. "The least you could do is be honest with me. You owe me that much!" She hissed, trying again to escape.

He managed to get over his bed and grabbed her by the back of her shirt, hauling her away from the window. "I _am_ bein' honest with you!" He grunted when she tried again to struggle away from him so he did the only thing he could do. He threw her roughly onto the bed.

She rolled over glaring. "How many girls have you had sex with in this bed?"

He threw his arms up in the air. "None, goddamn it! Would you listen to me!"

She tried to get back up but he shoved her back down, knowing if she got away she would never let him explain. She kicked him in the knee.

"Carol I swear to fuckin' Christ if you try hittin' or kickin' me again I'm gonna- Ouch! Goddamn it!" That kick landed right on his shin. "That's it," he growled, shoving her hard and then holding her down with all his weight. She squirmed under him but he was a lot bigger than her. She was only able to free one leg but she couldn't kick him again.

"Get off me. Maybe those sluts out there like it when you manhandle them in here but I don't."

"Stop sayin' that!" He growled, catching her hands and shoving them above her head. "Now, you ready to listen to me?"

She turned her head, refusing to look at him. Her eyes grew wet again and he felt fucking miserable. In five years they had never even had a disagreement and in just one night she slapped him, threw a glass at his face and kicked him twice. "What do you want, Daryl? Huh? What do you want me to say? That it's okay for you to get lonely and cheat on me?"

He shook his head. "That wasn't what it looked like. For fucks sake, you know me better than that. Think about it."

She finally looked up, meeting his eyes and he had to look away at the raw pain there. She really believed that he made a habit of messing around with other girls. She believed that he didn't care enough to keep it in his pants when she wasn't around. Hell, he had kept it in his damn pants when she _was_ around. The whole time he had been at her house, sharing a bed with her every night, he'd never tried to do anything like that with her. "You can't expect me to believe that. Just let me leave. I don't want to be here anymore."

He shook his head, refusing to budge. She was the single most important thing in his life and she had been since he'd been ten years old. There was no way in hell that he was going to let her leave, thinking that he didn't care about her as much as she thought. He'd hold her down all night if he had to.

He looked up when his door opened up and Merle stepped into the room. Merle glanced at the broken glass that crunched under his boot and then grinned. "And now you know why the hell I choose the type of bitches that I choose. I ain't gotta put up with shit like this."

Daryl groaned. "Get the fuck out. You and your piece of shit friends have caused enough problems."

Merle leaned against the door and crossed his arms over his chest. Daryl was still on top of her on the bed but he wasn't about to move for his brother's sake. He was too afraid she'd try to leave again. "What's the problem?" Merle asked.

Carol craned her neck to glare at him. "Are you serious right now? How can you ask that? There was a naked slut. On. His. Lap," she said those last three words through clenched teeth and that spark of anger was back, chasing the pain away.

Merle shrugged. "So?"

"Go fuck yourself you whore mongering asshole!" Carol yelled, fighting to get out from under him again, like she was going to kick Merle's ass before she left. "This is probably your fault!"

Merle's eyebrows shot up but he seemed to be enjoying himself.

Daryl's own eyes were wide. He'd never heard her talk like that before. The worst he'd heard come out of her mouth was hell and damn and that was only when she was upset about something. The fact that she was spitting that at his brother almost made him want to laugh but there really wasn't much that was very funny at the moment.

Merle just sighed. "Look, little girl. You two, you creep me the fuck out, alright? Whatever the fuck you two have goin' on ain't normal. He's a sixteen year old boy and I can't even get him to consider looking at a pare of tits cause his heads all fucked up over your absent ass all the time. What you saw out there, that kind of shit happens all the damn time. Bitches throw themselves at him and he tosses them on their ass because of you. To tell you the truth, I wish he would get his dick wet. It'd do him some good. And I don't see what's stoppin' him now that you stormed in here and slapped his face off because you _thought_ he did somethin' wrong."

Carol blinked, a frown forming between her brows. "You'd lie for him," she said uncertainly.

Daryl and Merle both snorted at the same time. "The fuck I would. I thought about comin' in here and just tellin' you that he's fucked every woman out there and _that_ would be the lie. But I ain't doin' it. For whatever reasons, your it. But I'm tellin' you now, you slap him like that again in front of me and I'm gonna put you on your ass, little girl, and he won't be able to do a goddamn thing about it. Of all the people in his life to do some shit like that," he shook his head. "Well, it's a goddamn disappointment is what it is." With that he stalked back out of Daryl's room, shutting the door behind him. A few seconds later the music started up again, even louder than before.

He looked down at her then and her eyes came up, locking onto his. Now that she seemed like she was willing to listen he tried again. "I ain't done a damn thing. I swear. It looked bad, I know that, but I didn't do anything." He let go of her hands, hoping that she wouldn't hit him again.

She bit her lip and he could see the inner battle. She wanted to believe him and Merle both but she couldn't deny the fact that she had walked in and seen what she had saw with her own eyes.

He went on, relieved that at least she was considering believing him. "I swear. That girl and her friend were dancin' on the table and I wasn't even looking. Next thing I know I got hit in the face with somethin', looked up, and then the bitch fell right on top of me. I didn't touch her. I didn't _want_ to touch her. I was about to get her off me and then there you were. That's what happened. Shit like that always happens but I've never done a damn thing. Not once."

She shook her head. "It looked bad," she whispered.

He nodded. "I know."

She let out a breath and he thought that she was going to push him away, and this time he would let her go because he didn't have anymore fight in him. If she didn't believe him then there wasn't anything he could do about it. Suddenly her eyes grew impossibly wide and she used her free hand to cover her mouth. "I hit you," she breathed, her hand going from her mouth to the side of his face.

He nodded, watching her closely and actually considered using her outburst to earn some sympathy points. He raised up on his arms when her eyes filled with tears again. "It wasn't bad. You thought I deserved it and if you'd been right, which you thought you were, then I _would_ have deserved it," he said quickly, dismissing the idea of trying to make her feel bad.

She shook her head. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe I did that. Merle was right. I..."

"Stop it," he said quickly. "Goddamn, it wasn't nothin', okay. If I'd walked into your house and a half naked man was sittin' on your lap I'd probably slap you too!" The image of Carol sitting around with a naked man on her lap actually caused a surprising reaction. He laughed. "Actually, that'd look all sorts of fucked up. But if I'd walked in and you were half naked on another guys lap, I'd be pissed. Trust me. I don't blame you for hitting me."

She bit her lip and then shook her head. "Don't make excuses. It's inexcusable. I shouldn't have done that. I'm so sorry." She gasped. "I threw a glass right at your face!"

"Carol," he said, his voice soft.

"What?" She asked, still looking like she was in shock.

He moved so his forehead was pressed against hers. "Shut up," he muttered.

She pulled him further down and kissed him softly. He'd missed her like crazy and he kissed her back eagerly. Last summer everything had been so chaotic that they hadn't done a lot of making out and even when they did, it hadn't ever been like this. He was suddenly very aware that he was on top of her, on a bed, and there was no one there to catch them in the act that would be against it. No reason to be careful.

She must have realized the same thing at the same time because the pace of the kiss changed and then she was moving, trying to get more of her body onto the bed. He raised up on his arms and she pushed herself back with her feet. He followed her, his lips on hers instantly as her breath rushed out of her.

He was acutely aware that he had situated himself between her legs. He was also aware of how good it felt to be there and how her body moved under him, searching for something. The friction had him groaning.

He knew a lot of people his age got it on all the time. He wasn't stupid and he wasn't oblivious to how his body responded to hers, almost instantly. But he also knew that this was a heat of the moment thing and there was no way he was going to do something that she would regret. Hell, all they had ever done at all is make out and this was leading way beyond make out territory. He wanted her. He wanted her so fucking bad it hurt, but he wasn't going to do this. Not here. Not right now. Not with a house full of loud drunk assholes in the other room.

He broke the kiss and tried to pull away but she wasn't letting him. Her thighs tightened on his hips and his head fell to her shoulder. He really needed to move away. He needed to...

Her lips closed around his earlobe and tugged gently and on there own volition his hips moved into her. A soft sound escaped her and he felt like his blood was on fire, he moved again. God, he wanted this. And she apparently wanted something because she was working her hands up the back of his shirt, pressing him into her harder and then her nails raked across his skin.

"Daryl," she said, her voice lost on a deep exhale as his lips trailed over her throat.

The sound of his name leaving her lips was doing strange things to him, causing his control to slip. "Yeah?" He asked before his teeth grazed her collar bone and his hand somehow working under her shirt without him telling it to, fingertips grazing the silky material of her bra.

"I want you," she whispered, arching into his hand.

God, how long had he dreamed about touching her like this? He let her work his shirt up until she was slipping it over his head, forcing him to remove his hand from her shirt. She had touched him plenty of times in the six years he had known her but he'd never been touched like this before. Her hand trailed down his chest, over his stomach and then stopped at his waist because he was still pressing into her and she couldn't get her hand down any farther. Finally, and reluctantly, he gripped her hand and pushed it above her head. "Not here," he said, shaking his head and glancing up at the door.

"We don't have to do it," she said, following him as he sat up on his knees.

He gaped at her when she shoved him hard until he was on his back and then scrambled on top of him. "What are you doin'?" He asked, trying to sit up but getting shoved right back down.

He groaned when she leaned down, her lips going to his throat. Didn't she have any idea how hard it was for him to tell her that they needed to quit this shit? What the hell was the... He raised his head and looked down sharply. She was working on getting the button on his jeans open but before he could tell her to stop her mouth was on his, hot and hungry, kissing him deeper until his head was spinning with the sheer heat of it.

"Carol," he managed even though her lips were still on his. He grabbed her wrist just as she started working his zipper down.

She sat up and he could see the smooth skin of her thighs where her skirt had ridden up high. Without thinking about it he was running his hands up her thighs, her skin just as soft as he always knew it would be.

This was to much. He stopped fighting her and her hand slid into his pants but over his boxers, but that didn't matter because, for fucks sake, she had her hand down his pants. She made a sharp sound as she moved her hand and he stifled a groan.

A loud sound from the living room had him tensing and glancing towards the door again. She had removed her hand at the sound but was about to return it when he gripped her wrist. As much as he hated to admit it, he didn't think that either one of them were ready for whatever the hell it was that was about to happen in here. Anyone could, and probably would, walk in on them. He couldn't do this. After everything they had been through, after all their painfully slow progression, he wasn't going to just... fuck her. Not in his shitty room with a house full of drunken hoodlums right outside the door.

She was too important for things to be like that. And he was positive that as worked up as he was right now, he would really suck at it. Not to mention he knew close to nothing about the female anatomy.

She pulled her hand out of his grip and sighed. "You don't want to," she stated, hurt clear in her voice. "I mean, I don't really blame you. All those girls out there, they aren't like me. They know what they're doing and everything. Not that you've done anything but I can see why I wouldn't really be... appealing with all of them around. I just- I slapped you and I shouldn't have and I wanted to do something... I don't even know what I thought I was doing. I just wanted to make you..."

He sat up, startling her into silence and shutting off her nervous rambling. "Stop it," he muttered. "It ain't that. You _are_ different from those women out there. You're worth more." He cleared his throat and gripped her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Just not like this, alright?"

She swallowed hard and her face flushed deeply. "My God, look at me. Like I would even know what to do anyway." She laughed nervously and looked back down.

He ducked his head and kissed her. When he pulled away she started chewing her lip nervously. He grinned. "We'll figure it out."


	8. Chapter 8

**Good Morning! Sorry this is late! I had to cook a huge breakfast and didn't get to post this before I started. I'm not happy with this one and I can't put my finger on a specific reason but I hope you all think it's at least decent. The next chapter they're finally eighteen and this little story will come to a close. It's bitter sweet because I've really enjoyed writing it! Thanks for reading!**

 **Chapter Eight**

 _ **Seventeen years old...**_

Daryl ran a hand through his overgrown hair as the powerful engine rumbled between his legs. Pulling up at the lake house his pulse quickened as the door flew open and Carol rushed down the porch steps. Her eyes were bright and she couldn't hide the wide smile on her face. Without a word she climbed right up in front of him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I missed you!" She said hugging him quickly and then readjusting herself so her legs were wrapped securely around his waist.

He had to hold on to her with one arm while he kept one hand on the handlebar and braced his legs so the bike wouldn't topple over. He used his foot to push the kickstand down and then he kissed her, wasting no time. He had missed her too. God, had he missed her. And it had only been a month since he had seen her last. She had a car now and throughout the year he would take the truck and meet her halfway. Sometimes they would only be able to spend a day together, sometimes a weekend, but no more waiting a whole year between visits. Neither of them could stand it.

She pulled away and grinned as he pushed her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ears and then kissing her again. She laughed against his lips, causing him to grin. "So, it's really yours? My boyfriend is a biker?"

He snorted, his hands slipped around her hips and hauling her closer, because she was never close enough. "Your boyfriend owns a bike, but he ain't no biker."

She shrugged. "Either way, you on this bike is probably the sexiest thing I've ever seen in my life."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes at her. "Your mom here yet?" He asked, glancing back towards the house.

Her face fell and she shook her head and he could have kicked himself for even asking. A few months ago Mary had started dating and Carol had taken it hard. Hard enough to leave home and hole up with him for a whole weekend at some no tell motel. She had been devastated and for the first day it was just like two years ago when her dad had died. She sighed. "I guess they'll be here later. I didn't even ask. I just left."

"They?" He asked, his heart sinking.

She nodded and tried to smile but it fell and she looked away. "I just don't understand how..." Her voice trailed away.

He nodded. "I know," he said softly, his fingers roaming over the curve of her spine lightly. He didn't understand it either. If something ever happened to her it would kill him. There wouldn't be any moving on. Her words mirrored his thoughts.

"If something ever happened," she shook her head, wincing like the thought caused her physical pain. "If I ever lost you I would never get over that. It'd be like... It'd be like losing myself. How can she date another man? Two years. It's only been two years and she can move on. I would never-" She huffed and laid her head on his shoulder.

"I know," he agreed. "It won't be too much longer now and we won't have to worry about it."

She pulled away and looked at him and the sun hit her eyes in such a way that it lit them up from the inside. "Not much longer at all," she pushed his hair out of his face. "And then you get to decide whether you can put up with me all the time."

He nodded solemnly. "It'll be rough but I think I can manage."

She made a face and pushed his forehead, growling under her breath. "Watch it, Dixon." She unwound her legs from around his waist and climbed off the bike. He followed her up the steps and into the living room.

He glanced around, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. It smelled the same. It always smelled the same and the smell brought a lot of memories to the forefront of his mind. Joining in with her mom and dad when they hauled out board games. Laughing with them around the table over a feast of junk food and take out.

The couch was the same one he had slept on when his dad had broken his arm. The same one that he had been lying on the night she had came to him and he'd ended up curled around her, crying like he'd never allowed himself to before, bearing a soul that was scarred and broken to the only person in the world that he trusted to keep it safe. He swallowed thickly.

A lot had changed since those days. Dean was gone. Mary was different. But not everything had taken on an unfamiliar hue. Carol was still there and she was still the most important person in the world. Still the best friend he'd ever had. Still the only one that truly knew the depths of the pain he had suffered as a boy. The only person in the world he would ever love like this. The only person that made life good, worthwhile.

"Sometimes being here is hard. It's almost like I expect him to come around the corner, ya know?"

He glanced at her and nodded. He did know because there were still plenty of times he'd get up in the middle of the night to get a drink or go to the bathroom and he would expect his dad to show up out of nowhere and knock him on his ass. It was different for her though, more painful, because she actually wanted to see her dad again.

She sighed and gripped his hand, leading him towards the couch and then she pushed him down and climbed into his lap. She grinned. "I don't want to think about depressing things. You're here and you have a bike now and we have the whole summer."

He nodded in agreement and she took this as him giving the okay to push his shirt up until he was struggling out of it with her on his lap. This wasn't anything new. Last summer they had nearly jumped head first into having sex and he had barely stopped it in time. They hadn't actually gone that far again but things tended to get extremely heated between them. It was a regular occurrence whenever they were around one another for more than a few minutes at a time.

Her hands pressed flat against his chest and that was about all it took for his body to react. She was on his lap and knew what she was doing to him because she grinned and then pressed her lips to his throat. His hand tangled into her unruly hair and the other roamed over her back. How the fuck could someone's skin feel so goddamn good?

She leaned back and crossed her arms in front of her, peeling the shirt away and leaving him gaping at her. She tossed it to the side and shrugged. "You've seen me in a bikini top every summer since I was thirteen. This isn't any different."

He took her in, his eyes roaming over the soft swell of her breasts. Maybe she was right but that was different because she hadn't ever worn one while straddling him and he couldn't recall seeing any of those tops cut quite like this, or made out of lace. She was doing this to torture him and he knew it but he still couldn't seem to take his eyes off her.

"If it's too much for you and your delicate sensibilities, I can go ahead and take it off if that would help." She grinned.

He narrowed his eyes on her. She was making fun of him! Well, if that was how she wanted to play then he'd play. He nodded. "Okay."

Her blue eyes widened and she grew still. He leaned his head into the couch, watching her expectantly. "What?" She asked, the playfulness gone from her tone.

He shrugged, watching her closely. Now she looked more nervous than anything else and then she met his eyes and scurried off his lap, standing in front of him with her hands on her hips.

"You're bluffing," she accused.

He didn't make a move. He just sat right there, head leaned back and his legs sprawled out. "Nope." And it was true. He'd not known a thing about this kind of shit last year but the more time he spent with her throughout the year, on those days or weekends they were together, things always tended to get out of hand and then he'd stop. So he'd finally, as casually as he could, started questioning Merle about... stuff. And his brother, the braggart that he was, told him just about every sick trick in the book.

Not that he would apply everything he'd learned because Merle was one nasty mother fucker. There wasn't anything that man wouldn't do and Daryl was either not depraved enough or not brave enough to do some of the stuff Merle mentioned. It almost had him grimacing just thinking about it. There was nothing on the female anatomy that Merle wouldn't lick, suck or stick his dick in. The man was fucking crazy.

His nerves kicked up a notch when she grabbed his hand and pulled him up from the couch. She eyed him and then started dragging him towards her room. She slammed the door behind him and then kissed him hard but it was her that made the surprised sound when he started backing her towards the bed.

She pulled back, her hands cupping his face and her eyes like saucers. "Are you serious?"

He grinned. "That cocky attitude dried up awful fast."

She frowned and then glanced over her shoulder and then back up at him, moving her hands from his face to his shoulders he saw her swallow hard. "Maybe we should wait?" It came out as a question, not a statement.

He nodded but then his lips went to her bare shoulder, moving the strap of her bra out of his way. She took in a sharp breath. "That sounds like a good idea," he said, and he meant it. But only because her mom could show up any time now and if they were going to do this he was going to make sure that he did it right. But her skin smelled amazing and familiar and he could feel her body tremble against his when he pulled her closer.

A loud knock on the front door had him raising his head. He scowled. "Who the fuck would be knockin'?"

She looked over his shoulder and then shrugged. Her face was still pink and she was breathing a little heavier than she should have been. "I have no idea. No one ever comes here but you."

He moved around her and face planted the bed. "Well go get rid of them," he mumbled into her pillow. Her bed was a lot better than his.

"You have a couple of shirts in the closet," she said as she grabbed one for herself. Their shirts were in the living room and anyone knocking would be able to look right in since the door was mostly made of glass. He felt something hit his back and knew it was a spare t-shirt. He grabbed it without even looking at it and slipped it on, flopping over onto his back.

He waited a second and then grudgingly crawled off her bed. He was a little curious to find out who was there. He could hear her voice already and he picked up the pace when he realized that it sounded angry. When he rounded the corner she was standing with her hands on her hips, glaring up at a guy he had never seen before. He was older, salt and pepper hair and what looked like a fucking business suit. He was looking down at her disapprovingly.

"When will she be here?" Carol asked.

"She'll be here early in the morning. It's not really a bad thing. I was looking forward to spending some time with you alone. We haven't had much of a chance to talk since me and your mother-"

"I have plans," she snapped.

Daryl leaned into the wall, going unnoticed by both of them for the moment and then his jaw clenched tightly as the man's eyes openly roamed over her when she looked away from him. The fucking creep was checking her out.

The man cleared his throat. "Well, your mother told me to make sure you stayed here until tomorrow so it looks like you have no choice young lady."

Carol's head snapped up then and Daryl could see the tension in her frame. "You don't get to make, or enforce, rules. You are dating my mother. That doesn't mean all of a sudden you get parental rights."

The man sighed and shook his head. "Look, Carol, I just want to-"

"I'm leaving. There isn't anything you have to say that I'm interested in hearing. When mom gets here in the morning, tell her I'll call her." She turned then but the man grabbed her by the arm, Carol didn't see the flash of anger in his eyes but Daryl did. He pushed away from the wall.

The man looked up then, seeming startled. Daryl was still advancing but suddenly Carol was in his way, her hands on his chest.

"Does your mother know that you have boys in this house when she isn't here?" The man asked, his eyes shooting daggers at Daryl.

Daryl glared. "She knows. She must not have told you about me."

The man gave him an icy look of his own. "And you are?"

"I'm the guy that's gonna break that fucking hand of yours off if you ever touch her again," he said through clenched teeth.

Carol shoved him gently, walking him backwards. "Let's just go," she said, sounding like she was trying to talk down a wild dog. He let her push him all the way into the kitchen before he finally turned and headed towards the door, reaching back and grabbing her hand as he went.

He dragged her all the way to the bike before he spun around. His hands were shaking in anger. "Has he ever touched you like that before now?" He asked, scanning the house to see if the man was stupid enough to follow after them.

She shook her head, her eyes wide. "No, I swear. He's barely even spoken to me until now! I would tell you if he had."

He finally met her eyes but, for once, he didn't find any solace there. Not until he felt her arms wind around his neck and she tried to offer him a small smile.

"Do you think I can spend the night with you tonight?"

He snorted. "You sure as shit ain't comin' back here. I'm gonna have a talk with your mom too. The guy was eyeball fucking you as soon as he weren't looking at him." He saw the color drain from her face as her eyes went wide.

"Are you serious!" She looked like she was going to throw up.

"I'm serious. Let's just get the fuck outta here."

~H~

He had refused to let her go back to the lake house without him and Mary reluctantly gave permission for Carol to stay with him. Not that she had much choice. Carol was refusing to stay at the house on her own. He wasn't dictating where she could stay. Mary seemed happier than she had been the last time he had really seen her but when he mentioned her asshole boyfriend giving Carol the eye she had nearly threw him out, accusing him of being jealous and telling him that he had simply misunderstood the look. But he wasn't stupid. He hadn't simply misinterpreted the look.

The only thing he was really worried about was when Carol went back home. He didn't like the thought of the man being around her without him there to protect her. Not that she was weak. He knew how tough she was but if the man tried to hurt her, could she fight him off? He tried not to worry about it just yet. They still had the summer and while she was with him, she was safe.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" Carol asked, suddenly pulling him from his thoughts. They were on the beach, at their spot. He was lying on his back with his arms folded behind his head and she was lying on her stomach, a book in her face. The sun was hiding behind the clouds and had been for most of the afternoon.

"I mind," he muttered. Of course he minded. Like it wasn't bad enough that he had to deal with all the idiocy at his own house when Merle got a wild hair up his ass and threw one of his dumb as shit parties, but now she wanted him to go _socialize_ with the very assholes that had given her a hard time when she'd been a kid? He sat up on his elbows and grimaced until he turned his head to look at her. Then he went kind of stupid.

She was wearing a black bikini and he'd had to forcefully keep his eyes off of her because it caused all kinds of inappropriate thoughts. Extremely graphic, dirty, naked, moaning fucking thoughts. Like his overactive imagination needed any fuel. And she knew it too. He knew she did, which was why she was smiling at him like she was. She sat up on her knees then and he could have sworn that the bikini top had shrank. He swallowed hard. "Daryl, you'll have fun. They aren't all that bad anymore. A few of them I haven't even seen in the last couple of years. It's just one night."

"I can think of a hell of a lot better things to do than hang out here with a bunch of snobby fuckers that ain't gonna do nothin' but look at me like you're slummin'."

She rolled her eyes and then grabbed his hand, forcing him up until he was on his knees right in front of her. He tried to glare but it didn't work. Not when her fingers started trailing up his arms and then over his shoulders. "You worry too much. Your hair is too long, you mostly communicate with other people in the form of grunts and dirty looks, you wear that sexy leather vest and biker boots and you drive a motor cycle. Trust me, every girl there will be drooling excessively and every boy will wish to God they could be you for a night."

His face flamed and he frowned at her severely but finally he just shook his head at her. She believed every word that she had said and he thanked God every damn day that she believed, but that didn't make her assessment of him true.

"Why do you think all those women throw themselves at you? The ones your brother brings home?"

"Cause they're whores and they can probably smell a virgin from a mile away," he deadpanned.

Her arms wound around his neck and she laughed, her eyes dancing. He pulled her closer, unable to resist since she was right fucking there. "It won't be that bad," she said before her lips met his softly.

He grunted accordingly, causing her to break the kiss and laugh.

When she met his eyes again her face grew serious and she started chewing her lip. When she spoke her voice was quieter. All playfulness gone. "We've been together for six years," she said, holding his gaze.

He nodded.

"And you know that I love you," she went on and he felt a strange sense of dread cause his chest to tighten.

"We've been there for each other through so much and we're stronger in our relationship than people twice our age. We know everything about each other and I don't think either one of us were meant to be with anyone else."

He swallowed hard, waiting for the but that he knew was coming. Things had been going too good. All these years and the two of them stood together and faced down more than most people ever had to and now she was going to tell him that-

"I've been planning everything since I was eleven. I mean everything. I have notebooks from when I was a kid that has detailed instructions on how we were going to live our lives."

"You're bossy," he managed, trying to lighten the sudden heaviness that had taken over the early evening.

She shook her head. "Some of the stuff in those notebooks are stupid. I'll show you some day. I wanted to ask you if, in six months, when I'm finally eighteen, if you'll move in with me. I know how stupid that sounds considering how young we are and if it was anyone else, anyone I know that's our age, I would tell them that they're idiots and it would never work but no one else is us and I can't think of any reason not to. I mean, it sounds like we would be jumping into things too fast but Jesus Christ, we really aren't. Considering, I think we're taking things extremely slow and you're the only-

"Carol!" He tightened his grip on her.

"Yeah," she asked, flushing.

"Breath for fucks sake," he said, eyes wide.

She nodded and took in a deep breath. "So?"

His brows pulled together in a frown. Of course he wanted to live with her. The thought of spending every fucking day with her was beyond anything he had dared to hope for. But it all seemed too easy. And one thing he was sure of was, things weren't ever really that easy between them. Their relationship was easy, sure. Being with her was easy. Talking to her was easy and opening up to her was easy. But actually getting to be with her, that had always been the hard part. They took the whole long distance relationship thing to the extreme.

"You don't want to," she whispered, her eyes instantly growing wet.

He shook his head and tightened his grip. "I want to," he said hurriedly. "You know that. But where the hell are we gonna live?"

"Here," she said, searching his eyes.

"On the beach? Just me and you. What the hell, Carol."

She blew out a frustrated breath. "Daddy owned this house before he ever married my mom. As soon as I turn eighteen the house gets put in my name. It's mine. I don't want to just use it as a vacation home. I want to live in it. I want to live in it with you. He'd had it drawn up in his will just a few months before the accident. I think that maybe... I think that maybe he'd hoped we would stay together. He really cared about you. I feel like this is what he would have wanted. Me and you, here for good."

He was stunned into silence and she was waiting for him to say something. But he didn't know what to say. Inside, he was terrified. What if they did this and decided that they really couldn't stand each other? What if she realized that she'd never gotten to explore other relationships? There were so many what ifs and each new one was more terrifying than the next.

 _Worthless. Stupid. Should have been you that died in that fire. You're no good, boy. Won't nobody ever give a fuck about you. Me, your own damn daddy sure don't._

He visibly flinched as those old familiar words sounded in his head in that voice that he loathed. The slurred ramblings of his father. He studied her eyes for a long time and the fear started to abate a little. She was right. His father wasn't. They were seventeen years old and had made it through more than they ever should have. The distance, those horrible awkward years, the fight they'd had in his room that time. None of it had managed to put the slightest wedge between them. Not the abuse he suffered as a boy. Not the death of her father and the emotional detachment of her mother.

"We can do this," he said suddenly, no doubt in his voice.

She grinned and hugged him tightly. "If he was still alive, he would be so happy you just said that."

He buried his face in her neck, breathing her in and trying to calm his pounding heart. Six months.

~H~

Daryl sat with his back to a turned over log not far from the raging fire. This party was different from Merle's in two ways. For one, the guys here were phony assholes. Merle and his friend strutted around like bad asses because that's what they were. Every damn one of them had proved time and again that they weren't to be messed with. The guys here tried hard to act the part but Daryl could see that they were just a bunch of rich kids play acting. Then there were the girls who seemed like replicas of each other, like the very worst thing that could happen to them was to find out that they weren't just as cool, just as pretty, just as giggly as the girl right next to them.

Fake. Every last goddamn one of them.

"I am so sorry," Carol muttered, sitting down right in front of him and situating herself between his knees.

He kept his mouth shut and turned up the beer she had handed him. He made a face. Even the beer sucked.

She leaned her back into his chest and sighed. "We can go whenever you want. I thought it would be a lot more fun than this."

He snorted, dropping his head so his lips were pressed against her bare shoulder. His eyes scanned the crowd. "You liar. You knew it wasn't gonna be any fun. You know these assholes."

She settled deeper into him and sighed forcing his arms around her waist. Her skin was warm under his hands. "Maybe I just wanted you to see what a prize you have. These girls are..."

"Goofy?" He offered, causing her to laugh.

"Yes. And so fake. You know, they all think I'm a total loser because I don't try to be like them but who would want to be like that? And the saddest thing is, you know that a lot of them are actually intelligent. They dumb themselves down to seem cooler."

"You wanna go home? Either mine or yours," he suggested.

She shook her head. "Not really. Merle is always leering at us or my mom and that vile son of a bitch are always side eying us at my house." She sounded depressed.

"We should just start walkin' and end up wherever we end up."

She stood up quickly, grabbing both of his hands and pulling him up. None of the others seemed to even notice them and he was glad. If one more of those guys tried to make conversation with him he was liable to punch them in the face. She laced her fingers through his and they walked the shoreline. She surprised him with a laugh.

He glanced down, a frown pulling his brows together. "What?"

She grinned at him, her eyes bright in the moonlight. "You. You're so romantic. You do realize that we're taking a moonlight stroll on the beach, right? For all that gruff, you are the sweetest guy."

He scowled and glanced up at the moon, glad that she was laughing about something, even if it was at his expense. "Sweet, huh?" He eyed her.

She paused and looked up at him curiously and must have seen something she didn't really like. She tried to pull her hand out of his but he tightened his grip and dragged her right into the water. "Daryl, no!" She cried but it was too late.

He gripped her around the waist and tossed her in.

She got her bearings and stood up, spitting water out of her mouth and glaring. Her hands went to her hips. "I remember you swearing you wouldn't be a jerk and shove me into the lake!"

He laughed at that and started stalking towards her. "That was seven years ago."

She took a step back but he just kept coming. By the time he reached her she was already neck deep. He pulled her towards him then and she laughed, using his shoulders for leverage to wrap her legs around his waist. The water felt good and having her wrapped around him like a vine felt good too. For the last few years he never felt like he was close enough to her. But he was almost close enough now.

She kissed him deeply, hungrily, and when she pulled away she had that darkened look in her eyes and they were both breathing heavily. She pushed his hair back from his face and kissed him again, quicker this time. "I'm soaked thanks to you," she said quickly, unwinding her legs from around him.

A retort better fit for Merle came to his mind but he bit it back and silently cursed himself for even thinking it. He really needed to stop spending so much damn time with his brother. "I can see that," he said instead.

"We should go rent a room at that lodge outside of town."

It wouldn't have been the first time they'd stayed in a hotel room together but the only reason he could think of for her wanting to rent one here was so they could be alone and the only reason he could think of for them to be alone was... He swallowed hard. "You sure?"

She grinned and then pushed him away, slipping into a graceful back stroke. "Head in the gutter again, Dixon?" She asked once she was a few feet away.

He snorted. "Nope."

She swam back to him and gripped his shoulders. She held his gaze for a long time and then she started looking everywhere but at him, a sure sign that she was getting nervous. He waited her out, letting her figure out what she needed to say. When she met his eyes again there was worry there that had him frowning. "I want to wait."

He raised on eyebrow. "For?"

She rolled her eyes. "I want to wait before we jump in bed together."

He laughed easily. "Too late. Remember when your folks caught me in your bed three years ago?"

She grinned and tried to shove him again but he grabbed her, keeping her still. "You know what I mean. Is that okay?" The smile slipped.

He shrugged.

"And that wouldn't bother you?"

He shook his head. "Nope."

"What if I said you had to wait until we were twenty five?"

He shrugged again, fighting a smile. Now she was fucking with him. He hoped to hell so anyway. He could wait but damn, that was a long time.

"And you're one hundred percent sure that you want to move into the lake house?"

He nodded. He'd live in the back of a car if it meant he'd be with her.

When summer ended that year things were still looking up. Mary apologized to him and Carol and broke it off with the creep that Daryl had been so worried about. The three of them spent a lot of time together and it almost felt like old times. The only thing missing was Dean, but they all talked about him often. All in all, it was a good summer.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello! So, I know that I said that this was it. This was suppose to be the very last chapter, but it was getting ridiculously long and I thought it would be okay to break this one into two parts. I'm not sure if I nailed it or not but I hope so because this one took a long time, and many rewrites, to get to the point where I felt okay with it. Monday I'll post the second part of their eighteenth year. Thanks for reading!**

 **Chapter Nine**

 _ **Eighteen Years old... Part One**_

He'd never realized it before but he had next to nothing as far as material possessions went. He had some clothes. His crossbow. A few old snapshots of him and Merle back when they'd been boys. That damn picture of Carol that she'd sent him when they were thirteen. All of them in cheap frames.

Moving into a lake house should have intimidated him a little bit but he had spent enough time there that he didn't feel strange about the move at all. That house had been a safe haven of sorts. Well, that wasn't exactly true. Carol had been his safe haven, but the house held nothing but good memories for him. Not like this one. A home was a place where you felt safe. A home was a place where you could feel good about yourself and a home was somewhere you could feel the presence of all the good things in your life. This house wasn't a home. This house had been a prison for more years than it hadn't and he wouldn't miss it. Not one damn bit.

"So, you're really doin' it, huh?" Merle asked, leaning into the door frame.

"You know I am, Merle. Known it for months now," he said, shouldering his bag and his bow.

"You don't make too much workin' at that garage, boy. How you gonna pay the bills?" Merle asked.

Daryl shrugged. "She has money. It was put in a trust after Dean was killed."

Merle whistled. "How much?"

Daryl shook his head. "Enough that I ain't gotta worry about my job not bein' enough to keep the lights on."

"She gonna get a job?" Merle asked. He was apparently stalling.

"Nope. She's gonna enroll in school next year."

Merle scoffed. "Waste of time."

"Not if she wants a teaching degree it ain't, and that's what she wants to do."

Merle made a sound of approval. "Goddamn it. How the hell did you end up lucking out? You got a hot girl that you're about to move in with, who has more money than you're comfortable mentioning."

Daryl shrugged. "Maybe cause I'm the sweet one that didn't try to fuck my way through Georgia."

Merle laughed. "Yeah and for all your efforts I bet you you won't be able to fuck your way through a paper sack. Practice makes perfect, baby boy."

Daryl couldn't not laugh at that. "Trust me, Merle. I've spent the last eighteen years of my damn life listening to your ass talk about what to do in the sack. If I ain't a damn pro then I'm sure as shit close enough."

Merle looked completely stunned for all of five seconds and then he laughed like a braying jackass, slapping Daryl on the back. It wasn't like Daryl made a habit of talking about stuff like that but he could tell that Merle was a little bit down that his one and only brother was moving out. If that was all Daryl had to do to put the man in a good mood then he'd do it. "Hell, kid, I don't think it much matters anyway. Ain't like she knows what she's doin' either."

Daryl groaned but didn't comment. At least Merle looked happier than he had for the last few days. "I ain't worried," he muttered, heading towards the door.

"When you comin' back?" Merle asked, following him out onto the porch.

"Jesus, Merle. I'm basically movin' to the back yard. I'm sure I'll see you around."

Merle nodded and leaned against the porch railing. "Well, if that girl of yours can cook you best bring me somethin' to eat!" He called.

Daryl waved after he had his stuff strapped to the back of the bike. He looked back towards the porch and saw Merle still standing there, arms crossed, frowning. He sighed. "Hey, maybe you can stop by tomorrow sometime. I got the day off. We can take that boat out for a while. Drink a few beers. Just you though. Not you and ten of your asshole buddies."

Merle nodded and actually grinned, shaking his head. "You own a boat. Goddamn. My little brother is steppin' into the good life. Gettin' drunk on a boat sounds good. Like a redneck debutante ball."

Daryl laughed. He'd secretly miss Merle a little bit. Even if he wasn't going to be too far, he had gotten used to him being there. Then again, not worrying about Merle and his friends was going to be a hell of a stress relief. Just him and Carol in a house. No rules. No worries. No pressure.

God, that was lie. He felt pressured. All these years, all the things they had been through, what if this didn't work out? What if he got on her nerves? What if... he shook the thoughts, reminding himself that back when they were fifteen, after Dean had died, they had both taken on the role of grown up in that house. They had worked together and they did what they had to do to get past the hump. Anything standing in their way from here on out wouldn't be half as hard as spending the last eight damn years being away from each for most of the year.

They would be okay. Their relationship was solid and made out of some unbreakable substance. He knew it. He was just getting the damn jitters because this was kind of a big deal.

He pulled down the lane and parked the bike in the driveway. With his bow and his bag he walked around the side of the cedar shingle house and then just about had a damn heart attack when he saw her sitting on the back porch steps, her legs pulled up and her hands over her face.

Had something happened to her mom? Did something happen to her! "Carol," he called, louder than he meant to but unable to smother the panic.

Her head snapped up and she wiped at her eyes. He noticed then that all the windows were pushed open, along with the sliding door that led from the patio into the kitchen. Wide sorrowful eyes met his.

"What happened?" He asked as he climbed the steps. That was when he smelled it. Smoke and something... bad. He made a face.

She sat there, looking completely miserable. "I wanted to surprise you. I had the stupid cook book and I followed the stupid directions and I wanted you to come home to a really special meal and... Well, I nearly burned down the kitchen and the food was horrible even before it caught on fire and I'm going to be a horrible wife to you someday."

He bit the inside of his jaw, forcing himself not to laugh at her because she really did seem extremely upset, but it was... well, it was fucking funny. He reached for her hand and pulled her up from the step.

"I had the whole stupid night planned and now we're stuck here dealing with a stinky house with empty stomachs. It was suppose to be a good night!"

He dragged her into the kitchen, forcing himself not to grimace at, what smelled like, burnt broccoli. It was still smoky so he pulled the chain on the ceiling fan. "It ain't that bad. I can go to town and pick somethin' up."

She made a face. "We can't live on take out! I'm completely useless. I also need you to look at the vacuum. I think I broke it. And all of my white clothes are pink because I wasn't paying attention to what I was throwing into the washer. I can't cook! I can't clean! I can't even do the laundry! What are we going to do? Starve to death and wear filthy clothes in our pig sty house? If you tucked tail and ran right now I wouldn't blame you!"

His brows shot up at the desolate expression on her face. "It ain't that bad," he said again.

She looked at him like he had lost his mind. "Not that bad? Daryl, it's horrible. I can't do anything that I'm suppose to be able to do."

He finally rolled his eyes, grabbed her under the arms and lifted her up, sitting her on the edge of the counter. "Are you serious?"

She nodded and she did, indeed, look very serious.

"That don't make no sense," he scoffed. "How the hell do you expect to be perfect at all this shit when you ain't ever done it before?"

She shrugged and looked down but he forced her face back up so she had no choice but to look at him. She sighed and finally threw her arms over his shoulders. "You really think we'll be able to do this?"

He nodded. "You're just being dramatic."

She made a face. "I wanted you to get here and realize that I'm a totally capable adult that can do something as simple as run a house without destroying it."

"We're eighteen, not thirty."

"Still," she huffed.

"I like to eat take out."

She scowled, her brow furrowing. "You'll have clogged arteries and won't live to see thirty if I don't learn to cook soon."

He snorted, his hands going to her hips. "You'll learn."

"You can fix a leaky faucet. You can fix the car if it breaks down. You can repair a broken gutter. You can already do all the stuff that the man needs to know how to do."

He couldn't do this anymore. He laughed, a loud sharp sound that startled her, causing her to jump. She was distraught and it was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever seen.

"You're laughing at me!" She glared.

He nodded and grabbed her wrists when she tried to shove him away. "I am," he grinned.

"This isn't funny," her eyes were narrowed on his.

"It's a little funny," he shrugged and then he kissed her before she could start all over again.

She finally relaxed, her fingers threading through his hair. He flexed his fingers into her hips, pulling her closer. She deepened the kiss then and instantly his hands slipped up the back of her shirt. This was it. They were alone in the house. Their house. And they could do whatever the hell they wanted to do.

Her hands came around, her fingers working at the buttons on his shirt. An electric thrill shot up his spine. The sun was setting and the room was bathed in shadows. His lips moved from her mouth to her throat and that's when it happened.

His fucking stomach growled.

She pushed him away slightly but he didn't go far. "Daryl, we need to get you fed."

At those words he growled into her neck but he didn't argue. Nothing would kill the mood quite like a rumbling stomach in the middle of the throws of passion. He stood there for a moment until his heart rate was back down to a normal pace and then he stepped away from the counter, but he took her with him. She cried out in surprise and wrapped her legs around him. "Fine," he muttered. "Let's get some damn food and then I'll fix the vacuum."

She grinned and then planted her feet on the floor. "You sound so domesticated."

He nodded sagely. "Yeah, I feel domesticated. I've just dealt with my first irrational female breakdown. I've heard stories but never seen one up close and personal before. I thought it was all a myth."

She pursed her lips and glared at him. "Real funny," she muttered, snatching her keys off the table and stomping out the door. He followed her down the steps, trying to keep from laughing all over again.

This was going to be great.

~H~

They ended up back at the house, in front of the TV with a box of pizza between them. He ate half of it and she ate one piece, minus the crust so he ate that too. She seemed edgy now, which was better than the mood he'd found her in but when she was edgy he got edgy too. Like it was contagious.

He kept glancing at her but her attention seemed to be riveted on the sitcom that was droning on. He glanced at her again just as she was glancing up at him and theirs eyes locked for a few awkward moments and then she looked away quickly.

"You tired?" He asked after another bout of silence.

She shrugged. "A little. I smell like burned dinner. I think I'm gonna jump in the shower," she said hurriedly. She stood up and quickly disappeared down the hall.

He blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. Something was going on in that head of hers but he wasn't sure what it could be. Surely she wasn't still upset that she'd messed up dinner. He turned off the TV and took the leftover pizza to the kitchen, tossing the box in the fridge and rinsing their plates himself before grabbing his bag and bow and trudging down the hall to the bedroom.

He hit the switch with his elbow and then froze there in the doorway, his eyes going to the bed. He realized then what was eating at her. His eyes raked over the familiar room. It had changed a lot over the years as she had grown up. The bed was new. It was bigger than the one he had grown used to. There was a new dresser and chest of drawers. The room wasn't a girly as it used to be. He wasn't even sure when she had done all of this. She had made the drive from South Carolina to Georgia every weekend. She must have done it the week before. And he was impressed. It looked like the room that belonged to a couple of adults, even though he didn't feel very much like an adult right now. He felt like a kid right on the brink of adulthood. It was a weird feeling.

And now he was nervous. Really fucking nervous.

He stepped into the room and dropped his bag and bow by the bed before sitting down, bouncing slightly. Well, it wasn't loud... He felt his pulse quicken and he swallowed hard. God, was this it? And if it was it then was he going to mess it all up? He didn't know what the fuck he was doing, despite his bold words to his brother earlier.

The only light in the room was a small lamp burning in the corner. He thought about turning more lights on. He didn't want her to come in here and think that he was trying to seduce her with some romantic lighting or anything. But then he didn't want her to think that he didn't want her because despite his nerves, he wanted her. He'd wanted her for a long time now. But now that it was possibly crunch time he was getting more and more antsy.

He laid back, willing himself to relax, staring up at the ceiling. He heard her coming down the hallway and his damn pulse picked up again. She paused, probably just realizing that the rest of the house was dark. Finally she started walking again and when she stepped into the room he forgot how to breathe.

There was a towel wrapped around her head and she was wearing a robe that just barely covered her ass. She met his eyes. "I forgot to take clothes with me," she explained quickly.

He didn't say a word.

She blew out a breath and then reached down, grabbing his bag. "Have you unpacked?"

He shook his head. "I didn't know where to put anything."

She unzipped his bag and took out a stack of folded clothes and started putting them away in drawers. He raised up on his elbows.

"I can do that," he muttered.

She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. "For Christ's sake, let me do something."

He rolled his eyes but didn't say anything else. Not until she came back, reached into the bag and pulled out a box that was wrapped in newspaper, taped with a strip of duct tape. He frowned when she held it up. There was a folded piece of notebook paper stuck to it. She opened it up and her brows pulled together.

"It says that this should last you a few days at least," she held up the paper. "Merle signed it."

"Oh God," he grumbled and reached for the small package but she was quick, dodging him and tearing the paper off.

The box wasn't labeled. It was just a small cardboard box, also duct taped and Carol took it upon herself to tear right into it while Daryl watched on in horror, knowing that there could be any number of things in there. The rush of heat that flooded her face from her neck to her hairline told him that it was definitely something horrible.

"A few days?" She remarked, her brows going up as she picked something up and pulled it out of the box. "Dixon's must have a hell of a sex drive." Two strips of foil wrapped squares dangled there from her fingers. "Two dozen in a few days?"

Goddamn Merle! He reached up, snatching the condoms from her and then shoved them into the top drawer of the nightstand just so they were out of site. Jesus, that man was such a son of a bitch! And the worst part was, Merle had been the one to have the foresight to even think of taking some sort of precaution.

He glanced at her and saw her fighting a smile. "What?" He asked, letting his back hit the mattress again.

She shrugged delicately and the robe slipped off her shoulder a little. "I've been on birth control for months. Merle probably should have kept those for himself." Like it was no big deal at all she took the towel off her head and draped it over the back of the chair in the corner of the room. "You gonna get ready for bed? My parents aren't here and we're adults that actually live together now. You're allowed to sleep in something other than your pants."

He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He hadn't thought of that. He hadn't thought of the small things. Like what she expected him to sleep in. Usually when they slept together when they stayed together after renting a room somewhere he just slept in his pants but this was different. At home he slept in his boxers. But then if he did that maybe she'd think that he was trying to screw her and he didn't want her to think that. But then again, this was home now.

Goddamn it.

"You're gonna have to relax," she said, hands going to her hips.

"What?" he asked, standing up and running a hand through his hair. He was suddenly filled with so much anxiety that his palms were starting to sweat. What the hell was wrong with him? It was just _Carol_. It was the same girl he'd been in love with since before he knew the meaning of the word. And it wasn't just him. She'd been acting just as nervous up until now. But now she seemed fine and he was feeling like there wasn't enough air in the room.

They had been together for... ever. It very much felt like that anyway. They'd been messing around for years. He'd had plenty of time to prepare for this and he didn't feel prepared at all. He knew what it was. It was that fear that had been ingrained in him from the time he understood the human language. The fear of not being good enough.

She sighed and stepped right up to him, her fingers going to work on his shirt. "You're acting like you're thirteen again."

Because he felt like he was thirteen again for fucks sake!

She pushed his shirt away so he tossed it onto the chair with her towel. He met her eyes then, holding her gaze and trying to shake the sudden panic attack. He felt like a dumb ass but the longer his eyes were on hers he felt himself start to calm down, reminding himself again that this was Carol and from the very first time he met her, he _had_ been good enough. Because he _was_ good enough. The rest of the world could say that he wasn't but as long as she said he was, that was what mattered and he needed to stop acting like a fucking girl.

Her eyes slid down and then she traced the scar on his chest with the tip of her finger. The touch was feather light, warm and familiar. She surprised him when she dropped her hand and took a step away. She held his eyes and then worked the knot of the robe loose.

He watched her, fascinated and barely breathing as the garment fell to the floor at her feet and then she stepped back into him, pulling his face down to hers and catching his lips with her own. Work roughened hands went to her bare hips. Suddenly, he didn't feel nervous anymore. Not at all. He'd wound himself up too tight for no reason because, despite the fact that he was as experienced as she was, he simply knew. On some primitive level he knew exactly what she needed him to do. He'd just needed that small push. And damn if her stripping right there in front of him hadn't been the push he'd needed.

He wasn't sure how they ended up on the bed. He wasn't sure when in the hell the rest of his own clothes had ended up on the floor with her robe. Instinct took over, his hands seeming to know where to travel, his mouth quickly following suit. There was no reason to rush and he didn't. He refused to rush.

Every inch of her skin seemed to be screaming for attention and he was thorough, meeting her eyes often, darkened and heavy lidded as she gave herself over, allowing him to take his time, devouring her with his gaze, his touch. He wasn't biased. He lavished the sensitive skin of her wrist with as much enthusiasm and patience as he had her breast, because every inch of her he tasted was a part of the whole that made up who she was and she was everything. Had been everything since the second their eyes had met.

Soft sounds filled his ears, echoing in his mind and then traveling down to settle heavily in his chest. Every whimper, moan and murmur was another electric jolt, spurring him on to keep up the exploration until the sounds were more demanding, her body trembling now with every caress. The need growing more intense until she was pleading.

He slid back up her body, hovering over her, knowing what to expect, knowing that she knew what to expect, but still feeling that twinge of regret when he moved, felt her body give in to his and then the sharp cry that escaped her. For a few long moments he didn't dare move. Searching her eyes until she bit her lip and nodded slightly before pulling his face down to hers.

The rest came just as naturally as everything else between them ever had. They moved in sync, neither racing in search of an end, instead moving fluidly with the other. Their bodies knowing exactly how much to give and take from the other, working without thought, more physically gratifying than anything either of them had experienced before but also touching somewhere deeper, some safe place inside them both that only the other was ever allowed to glimpse. The doors to those secret places thrown wide open, in full view and the emotion in the moment was an intense and palpable force between them. That huge and sometimes scary thing, that mysterious link that gave them the strength to endure all those years of separation, that gave them the patience to wait and to love from such a distance, seemed even greater now.

She gasped and her nails bit into him harder than before. When he met her eyes they were wide and unfocused and he almost stopped moving. But then he felt her body shudder under his, her lips parting in surprise. He kissed her then, drinking in the sound of his name on her lips, losing himself in the moment, shocked at just how fucking incredible it felt. The pleasure wasn't brief. It wasn't like anything he had ever experienced before, a tidal wave of physical sensation that nearly knocked the breath out of him, her body greedily pulling him deeper, until he couldn't be sure if they hadn't somehow melted into one being. It was a strange feeling, but not unpleasant.

He wasn't sure how long it took for him to gain the ability, or the will, to move. His head was on her chest and he listened until her thundering heart grew more steady under his ear before he pushed himself up, bracing himself with his elbows.

She grinned and traced his bottom lip with the tip of her finger. "You know, for as nervous as you were, you put on a hell of a performance."

He snorted and eased away from her but he didn't get far. Her arms went around his neck and held him in place. He raised one eyebrow and grinned right back at her. "Yeah? And for a woman that can't cook, clean or do the laundry, you have a knack in the sack." He kissed her quickly before she could smack him. The heavy mood was slipping away and he was relieved that things could move on to a lighter tone without any awkwardness. But he should have expected it. It was them. It was just how things worked.

"That was mean," she muttered, squirming away from him and then boldly standing up, like being completely naked in front of him wasn't a big deal at all. She walked to the closet without a backwards glance and he swallowed hard before snatching his boxers off the floor and pulling them on before she could turn around.


	10. Chapter 10

**First off, I am sorry for the delay. I thought for sure this would be finished by Monday and I was totally wrong. For some reason, this was the hardest chapter I may have ever written in my life. And that leads me into Apology number 2. This sucks. Lol There really isn't anything else I can say about it. I've stressed over it, rewritten it, pondered different ways to go about writing it, and it turns out super crappy every time so I am seriously sorry for that.**

 **Anyway, much thanks to all of you that gave this story a shot. Up until this last chapter, I loved writing it. You guys are awesome!**

 **Chapter ten**

He woke up with a strip of warm sunlight hitting his bare back. He'd slept like the dead after they had finally fallen asleep. He reached out but her side of the bed was cool, telling him she'd been up for a while. He rolled over, blinking up at the ceiling as the events of last night came rushing to the forefront of his mind.

Ever since he'd been a ten year old kid, he'd known that there was something about them that was different. A lot of people didn't believe in things like soul mates. He wasn't even sure if he believed in things like that. Not for anyone else, anyway. But he believed it about them and everything they had done the night before only cemented that fact in his mind.

He felt bad for people like Merle. Sure, the man was able to have a new piece of ass in his bed whenever he wanted it. But Daryl was positive that Merle probably wouldn't ever have an experience like he'd had the night before. To Merle, it was all about the physical and Daryl knew that the physical was a big attribute to the appeal and all, but it was more than that. Or maybe him and Carol were just weird. Actually, he knew they were, but he sure as fuck wouldn't have it any other way. This was one situation where he didn't mind being different than everyone else.

He opened the door and was assaulted by the smell of food. After the fiasco the night before he took off towards the kitchen, willing to give her a hand before she set the house on fire again. When he got to the doorway he stopped, blinking in surprise.

Merle was standing next to the stove, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest and his head turned so he could monitor Carol.

"Well, this isn't very hard at all," she said with a grin as she glanced up at his brother.

"Told ya."

"Where did you learn to cook?" She asked.

Merle shrugged. "I guess when you gotta fend for yourself, and don't wanna eat food that tastes like shit, you learn fast. You think you can handle it now?"

She nodded. "Don't tell him I called you."

Merle snorted. "You done told me that five times. 'Sides, you basically did it all on your own anyhow and you paid me twenty bucks to just stand here and watch you. I got shit to do but I'll be back later."

"Thanks, Merle," she beamed and then Merle pushed himself away from the counter, slapping Carol's ass harder than necessary on his way past.

Daryl rolled his eyes and slipped back into the hallway. She wanted him to think she did it all on her own and he'd let her. She must have been pretty damn desperate to impress him if she went to the trouble of calling Merle's crabby ass and then actually paying him. The two of them didn't have the greatest relationship so it was nice to see them doing anything other than glaring at one another.

When she came in he was pretending to buckle his belt, like he'd just gotten up. She grinned and then her face flushed. "Morning," she said before chewing her lip.

He looked up from under his brow, the corner of his mouth turning up. "Mornin'."

She gripped his hand and pulled him down the hall, sitting him at the table. She grinned when he realized that there was a small stack of worn notebooks sitting in front of him.

"What's this?" He asked, pulling the stack closer.

She laughed and then sat a plate down in front of him. Toast, bacon and eggs. The poor girl had needed Merle's help to cook something as simple as toast, bacon and eggs. Sighing heavily she sat down next to him with her own plate. "This is our future as seen through the eyes of a love sick preteen. Keep in mind that she knew very little about the ways of the world." She laughed. "This one is from when I was eleven." She handed him the one on top.

He read over the first few pages, laughing softly between bites. "Wow. You had it bad."

She nodded and grinned. "Hilarious isn't it?"

"So, since we were so much more mature than any other couple in the world we were suppose to get married when we turned fifteen?"

"Of course. I told you had plans."

"And by the time we're twenty five we're suppose to have fourteen kids?" He raised his eyebrow and glanced at her.

"Seven girls and seven boys because I didn't like being an only child and I didn't want my kids to get lonely. Of course, being eleven I wasn't sure exactly where a baby came from. I just knew I'd be fat for a while but didn't think you'd mind. The number gets drastically lower as the years go by. Trust me."

"I'd hope so," he muttered, turning his attention back to the notebook. "This is good, by the way. Told you you'd learn to cook." He wasn't sure if she would keep the lie going or if she would feel guilty about it and spill the truth.

She lowered her eyes to her plate and swallowed hard before dropping her fork. "It was Merle. He came and helped me."

He shrugged. "No big deal. Now you know how to do it."

"I paid him."

Another shrug and then he grabbed another notebook. She had been telling the truth. She had spent a whole lot of time mapping out their future. It shouldn't have been at this point, but it was strange. Strange to think that he could be so goddamn important to another person. So important that someone would spend this much time thinking about their future with him.

And then there was the gut wrenching fear that he was hit with when he realized that no matter how old she had been in each notebook, all of them mentioned kids. The last one, which was written just a year ago, was a lot more realistic than the others and still, she mentions having kids. The first when they were twenty two. The second when they were twenty four. The third when they were twenty six and then the last one when they were twenty eight.

"What's wrong?" She asked, glancing over her shoulder. He hadn't even realized that she'd taken their plates to the sink.

He shook his head and forced a small smile, laying the last notebook on top of the stack. "Nothin'."

She made a face. "Tell me," she insisted, hopping up onto the counter and swinging her bare feet back and forth.

He wasn't his father. He wasn't his brother. He'd turned into a good man when it came to Carol. He knew that there wasn't anything she could ever do to cause him to hurt her. He knew that. But Jesus, the thought of being a dad was about the most terrifying thought. It caused his heart to race. The thought of somehow messing up was crippling. Knowing that he had the power to crush a child without even using his fists, just like his dad had, was too terrifying. Terrifying because he didn't believe that his dad had started out that way. Surely if the man had known that he had it in him to hate his own son, he would never have had any to begin with.

But he'd turned into a monster and Daryl barely made it out of that house with his sanity intact. What if they went ahead and followed through with her plan and then he found himself hating one of his own kids? Hating them so much that all he wanted to do was hurt them? He didn't think he could ever do it but maybe his own dad, when he'd been Daryl's age, had thought the same thing.

He looked up. He should have said something about this before. He should have realized that if she wanted so badly to be a teacher that it was probably because she really liked kids and she would want some of her own. "I don't know if I'd ever want a kid. One kid. Let alone four kids. Fuck, we're still kids if you think about it."

She grew still and he saw her eyes widen a little. "Oh."

Fuck. This wasn't good. He could see the hurt in her face but didn't know what the fuck he could say to make it better.

"Ever?" She asked. "You've never even thought about it once?"

He shook his head.

She shrugged and forced a smile. "Okay. It isn't like it's a deal breaker. No kids then."

"Carol, I-"

She hopped down and shook her head. "It's okay, Daryl. I understand."

He searched her face and realized that she really did understand and that only made it worse. "Maybe later. Way later. We got a lot to learn before we should start worrying about stuff like that, ya know?" He said hurriedly.

She searched his eyes for while and then finally smiled. "A year."

His throat felt like it was going to close up. "What?"

"We'll talk about it again in a year. Give us something to look forward to." She sat down on his lap. "That gives you plenty of time to think about it."

He nodded but he knew that he wouldn't need more time to think about it. He'd try though. "Maybe we should get a dog first."

~H~

Five days later Daryl pulled up at the house after a rough day at work. He'd went to a diner for lunch and filled up so he wouldn't be too hungry when he got home. Carol was still struggling in the kitchen but what she lacked in cooking skills, she made up for in spades in the bedroom.

He toed off his dirty boots on the back patio and before he could open the door she rushed out and threw her arms around his neck. He didn't hug her back because he was filthy and he would get grime all over her so he just stood there.

She finally pulled back and grinned. "How was your day?"

He raised his eyebrows at her jubilant expression and then shrugged. "Just another day."

"How would you feel if I told you that we were gonna have another mouth to feed?"

He felt his body lock up with tension and his eyes slid down to her stomach like he'd be able to see something. Jesus, they'd only been doing it for five damn days! "What?"

"I bought a dog. I named him Doug."

He was so relieved that he blew out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He could handle a dog. A dog was okay. When he stepped into the kitchen he was greeted by a clumsy blue heeler pup that waddled in from the living room. He hadn't ever asked his dad for a dog because he figured the bastard would just get drunk and kill it for kicks. After his dad was gone he never really thought about getting one.

"Are you gonna throw a fit?" She asked, bending down and rubbing the little mutt behind the ears.

He shook his head. "Nah. I was the one that brought it up, remember?"

She snorted. "Yeah, I remember.

He hadn't brought up the kid issue anymore but after almost a week to think about it, he was able to calm down and look at it logically. There was something in his father and his brother that wasn't present inside him. A slow kind of madness that wasn't as apparent in Merle, and was completely missing in Daryl. He wasn't as afraid as he had been. The idea didn't send him into panic so he figured that by the time she was ready, he'd be ready too. But that wasn't going to be for a long time.

"Guess what else?" She grinned.

"With you it's hard to guess," he said, grinning right back.

"I can't believe you haven't noticed." Hands on her hips she watched him expectantly.

Uh oh. This was one of those moments that she changed some miniscule thing about herself and as soon as he didn't notice she was going to go on a tirade about how he didn't pay attention to her. He studied her closely but there was nothing different about her at all. Everything was the same as it had been when he'd left that morning. And then he smelled it. "That actually smells good," he said before he thought about what he was saying. "Did you cook?"

She gave him a dry smile. "I did. I stopped stressing and remembered when I'd help my dad make chicken. Once I stopped worrying about doing it right it kind of just came to me. It might not be as good as his yet but it's a start. And I invited..."

The door opened behind him and he turned as Merle walked in. Merle grinned. "You're a filthy mess."

Daryl rolled his eyes but couldn't stop the small smile. Carol and Merle getting along enough for her to invite him over for dinner wasn't some small thing. Sure, he'd helped her make him breakfast but only because she paid him.

~H~

That year seemed to fly by, and the years that followed it. He was used to time either standing still, like waiting for summer to come, or time running away, like the fleeting weeks that he was with her during the summer.

Carol's carefully laid out plan was falling into place beautifully until the year they turned twenty one. It was bound to happen because no one could ever expect for things to work out exactly like they expect them to. That way of thinking was pretty naive in his opinion but he didn't begrudge her for it. Him on the other hand, he was prepared for things to get off course. Not because he was a pessimist. It was because he was a realist. Or he liked to think so anyway.

The day had been warm but not oppressive like it had been all week. They had walked down the beach to the spot where they had first met and he gave her the ring. Twenty one was a little young for a move like that but they had technically been together for ten years and if you couldn't ask a girl a marry you after that damn long then you might as well just not ask, as far as he was concerned.

He expected tears but nothing like what had happened after she saw the ring. She had been acting off for weeks and he thought that maybe it was because of her mom. Mary had remarried and Carol had been happy for her but he knew that something was bothering her and all he could think of was Mary's wedding. The man was a good guy, though, even though Daryl felt a little like he was betraying Dean's memory by thinking so, but he couldn't force himself to hate the guy.

But it was more than tears when he'd given the ring to her. She had broken down completely and he had been terrified that, somehow, he had messed it all up. He wasn't the most romantic guy in the world but he hadn't thought he'd done too bad.

Turned out, it had nothing to do with his clumsy unoriginal proposal and it had nothing to do with her mom marrying another man. It was because she'd found out weeks ago that she was pregnant and was terrified that he was going to be upset about it.

But she had been wrong. February of that next year he met his daughter for the first time. All of his fears of being like his his own dad were forgotten. There wasn't any way that he could possibly love the little girl more. Somehow fatherhood just came natural. He didn't struggle like some men did, didn't try to pawn off the hard stuff. Another daughter followed two years later and then two years after that they had a son. Complications with the last pregnancy shot down any chances of Carol getting the four children she'd planned on having but that didn't seem to bother her.

Their lives were very full.

~H~

 _One summer night, at the age of thirty, he woke from a dream of his father that he couldn't shake from his mind. The man had been angry, ugly, spewing hateful words and Daryl had been unable to escape him. The words all ran together but he knew what the man was saying. He'd heard it all many times, and even though it had been a long long time since he'd heard the voice, the words were clear in his mind._

 _He slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Carol up, and padded barefoot down the hall. Doug, followed, nails clicking on the hardwood. He thought he'd sit for a while but he felt strangely energetic. It was nearly one in the morning and he didn't see any harm in strolling the beach for a while, which was exactly what he found himself doing a few minutes later._

 _He thought about the dream as he walked, watching the moonlight reflect off the still surface of the lake. He thought about his life in that house. He thought about the afternoon when he'd been ten years old and had fled to the woods. The beating hadn't been too severe that day. Most of the pain from that encounter was internal._

 _He stopped when he reached the tree and realized he had walked further than he'd planned. His eyes went to the tree line and he blinked when he thought he saw movement. Like the shadow of a child against the darker back drop of the woods. The longer he watched the more certain he was sure that he was being watched right back._

 _Glancing down at where he thought the dog was standing next to him, he was surprised to find the spot empty. He'd wanted to gauge the dog's reaction to the shadow. He looked back towards the trees and then nearly fell on his ass when he found a boy standing there a few feet away, staring at him._

 _"What the hell are you-" His voice trailed off when he recognized the face. It was his own. Or it had been when he'd been around ten._

 _"You still holdin' onto that baggage?" The boy asked._

 _Daryl frowned as he studied the boy's face. His lip was bloodied and his clothes were torn. Scratches marred the skin of his arms and a good sized bruise was forming on his cheek. Daryl swallowed hard. He'd taken a lot of beatings as a child but somehow he knew exactly which one this was. He was also acutely aware that he wasn't awake. This was a dream. He was staring at the boy that Carol had met on the beach that day. "What are you talkin' about?" He asked._

 _One slender shoulder raised in a shrug and the boy dug the toe of his warn boot into the sand before looking up and meeting Daryl's eyes. "Dad. You still think about all that shit. It stays in the back of your mind. Can't let it fester there forever, ya know? You just gotta let go of it. It's the only thing keepin' you from bein' happy really."_

 _Daryl shook his head. "That ain't true. I'm happy now."_

 _The boy watched him. "You still dream about him because he's still there. He's still in your head." The boy shook his head, shaggy hair falling into his eyes before he brushed it away._

 _"Ain't really nothin' I can do about that."_

 _The boy scoffed and Daryl was reminded of his own son. Which kind of made sense in a weird way. "It wasn't easy but what if he hadn't been the way he'd been? You ever think of that?"_

 _Daryl nodded. "I used to."_

 _"You still do."_

 _Daryl didn't argue. What was the point? If anyone would know it'd be this kid. "I guess you're right."_

 _"Look, the things that happened, they happened cause they were suppose to happen. Everything does, even if it don't make sense. Even if it hurts. Even if it hurts so bad you think it's gonna kill you. In the end, there's always a reason for it."_

 _Daryl shook his head. "What are you getting at?"_

 _The boy sighed. "The reason you were here that day wasn't because you were runnin' from that asshole. The reason you were here that day, the day Carol came, was cause that was the plan. You needed to be here. You needed to meet her. You needed to meet her because that's just how things were suppose to be. If dad had been a decent man, you never would have came. You never would have met her. You woulda ended up somewhere else. Ended up with somebody you weren't meant to be with. You get what I'm sayin'? Stop carryin' around the baggage. Beating our ass was the best thing that man ever did to us. Everything he did, it shaped you into who you are now."_

 _"Carol shaped me into who I am," he said, knowing it sounded stupid and pathetic but also knowing that it was the truth._

 _"No shit. That's my point."_

 _"_ _Forgive and forget, huh?" Daryl asked, running a hand through his own hair._

 _The boy nodded. "Your hate for him is about the only dark spot you got. Let it go. Be glad he was who he was. If he'd been any different, any different at all, then you would be too."_

He woke with a start, sitting up. He swung his legs around until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Running a hand over his face he blew out a heavy breath and then jumped when he felt a hand on his back. The dream had shaken him for reasons he wasn't even sure why.

"You okay?" Carol's sleep laden voice sounded softly next to his ear.

He nodded. "Fucked up dream."

"Your dad?" She asked coming up on her knees and wrapping her arms around his neck from behind. The solid warmth of her pressed into his back was chasing some of the strangeness away.

"Somethin' like that," he muttered.

"You wanna talk about it?" She asked.

He shook his head, grabbing her arm and pulling her around until she was on his lap. "No talkin'," he said gruffly, burying his face in her neck and breathing deeply.

She laughed sleepily. "Sick of my never ending commentary already?"

"Already?" He snorted. "Been listenin' to your never ending commentary for twenty years, women."

"Is that a yes?" She pulled back, smiling at him.

"Nope." He kissed her quickly and then stood up, dumping her onto the bed and causing her to laugh even louder. "I'm gonna grab a drink and then I'm gonna go the hell back to sleep. Too old to be up at two in the damn morning."

She grabbed his hand and yanked him down so hard that he was barely able to catch himself with his arms in time to keep from crushing her. He knew what she wanted so he kissed her hard. She hummed in the back of her throat, fingers threading through his hair. He pulled back after a few seconds. He wanted her. He always wanted her. Time had done nothing to change the ever present need to be with her, but he wanted a second to think about that damn dream.

She sighed heavily and her arms fell to her sides dramatically. "Fine. Go on and get your drink. Leave me here pining after you."

He grinned. "It'll do you some good." He kissed her one more time and then crawled off of her. He didn't look over his shoulder because then he wouldn't have ever left the room.

In the kitchen he grabbed a bottle of juice and then sat down at the table, his eyes going to the darkness pressing against the sliding glass doors. He picked at the label and then contemplated the dream. Usually he ignored dreams. He never really thought of them as messages but it really did seem as though his subconscious was trying to tell him something so he forced himself to remember every single word that the child version of himself had said.

Forgive and forget was what he apparently needed to do. But how was he suppose to do that when he wasn't even aware that he still had that thorn in his ass? It wasn't like he ever really thought about the man. Especially now that he had three kids of his own.

But that wasn't really true. Sometimes, when he least expected it, memories of his childhood would rear their ugly heads. Every once in a while he would second guess himself. He would wonder if the rug would get pulled out from under him and he'd lose everything just because he wasn't good enough. Not often. Lately, it was almost never, but it was still there.

He sat like that for a long time, staring at the darkness and working on forgiving the old bastard for what he'd done to him. It really was strange because it was all because of his dad that he had what he did now. He had a family. He had a good life that was full of great things. And the boy in the dream had a point. If not for the pain of his past, he never would have found the one person that made everything as good as it was. His path never would have crossed with hers.

After a while he got up and went back to the bedroom. Carol was asleep so he was careful not to wake her when he crawled back into bed. He didn't even have time to scoot closer to her before she was moving, seeking him out even in sleep.

He felt a little bit lighter. He was sure that it would still take some time to work through it all in his head, but it was a start. And until then he would keep on doing what he had been doing for the past twenty years. He would appreciate every second he had with the woman that was now wrapped around him. He would be the best father that he could be and he'd be happy. Nothing that had happened in the past had managed to crush him and now it was high time that he let go of the bad parts for good. He would always remember, but he didn't have to let those bad years get to him anymore. His dad had been a sick man. Maybe more sick that Daryl ever realized and he needed to let go of the hate.

As he drifted off to sleep he listened carefully to her steady even breaths that warmed his skin. The kid was right. He had too much in his life to waste any amount of it dwelling on that one dark spot. Carol mumbled something in her sleep like maybe she agreed with him.


End file.
